


Phantom Touch

by Olivia_Janae



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/F, magic touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4260765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_Janae/pseuds/Olivia_Janae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This touch that she can not see has become familiar to Emma, comforting and welcomed - but god damn it, who the hell or what the hell is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Le toucher fantôme](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7210436) by [Dusty_words](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_words/pseuds/Dusty_words)



It was the sound of her exasperated moan of pleasure that startled Emma awake – yet again and as usual she was waking with her hand clamped tightly between her quivering thighs. She gasped grumpily. It took her a moment longer to figure out where the hell she was as she blinked against the wood of the desk.

Coffee – she could smell crappy Folgers – and Cheetos – three-day-old donuts and office supplies. Right, she was at the station, of course. Because it was indeed her luck that she would have these dreams at the station. She whimpered, trying not to groan with frustration and kick something – anything at all. She released the apex of her jeans and palmed the breast that moments before had been lightly caressed into a hard and insistent peak by the strange phantom touch. She didn't know if she was touching herself to bat the heightened feeling away or to squeeze and hope it would return. She _never_ knew when it came to this strange happening.

She groaned again, just because it felt good, and covered her head with her arms, trying to hide - or possibly bury herself - in the wanting feeling that had been produced.

 

It had started in Neverland. In Neverland weird things like this kind of...made sense.

At first she had panicked, thinking she was crazy. She had roared and screamed at nothing but bushes and vines, alone in the jungles of that godforsaken island. She didn't know what it was; all she knew was that she had _not_ given it permission to touch her and so she was going to fight it with all she had.

But the touch had been calming, a soft caress while she worried about her and Regina's stolen son; or a warm and gentle massage when she was having trouble sleeping. The touch had become a kind friend, welcomed and reassuring.

It had not been long though until the touches had begun to draw desire to the surface no matter how innocent they were.

Perhaps it had been her fault that they had turned from innocent to impassioned. She had been resting on her sleep pad that Regina had created for her, a few tears of worry for Henry falling, when the touch had appeared. Instantly Emma had sighed, pleased to feel the warm fingers at the back of her neck, rubbing reassuring circles into her sore muscles. It was as though the touch knew exactly why she was upset and was whispering that everything would be alright.

It had focused for a while on her shoulders, her neck, her back, so intimate that when it slipped down her sides Emma had found she needed to bite her lip to keep her gasp to herself.

She had learned to trust the touch weeks ago when it had saved her from going over the edge of a cliff while chasing Felix. The grip on her arm had been hard enough to stop her feet and force her to see the mistake she was about to make. It had saved her.

When she had injured herself tripping over a large rock, it had cleaned and healed her wounds in her sleep.

Therefore when, during a typical massage she had involuntarily let out a sigh of pleasure, she didn't think twice about the phantom's pause of evaluation. She had laughed when a finger grazed up her side, tickling her in just the right way. Her laughter only grew when the touch played with her ribs, experimenting; making her squeal and squirm like a small girl. Then all laughter stopped when the touch slipped down her chest, between her breasts, making her breath catch in her throat.

The touches had changed after that. They still caressed and comforted her but it was as though she was in the beginnings of a new relationship and the touch couldn't keep it's hands off of her; as if it took as much pleasure from the act as she did. When she was alone, she spent the time talking in a whisper to the touch as it played with her body, making her eyes roll and her breath pant. Somehow the touch had a way of responding, a stroke here, a graze there that left Emma with the distinct impression that it knew what she was saying and, in its own way, was responding.

 

But they were home now. Things were supposed to be going back to normal – if she could ignore the amorous pleas of the two men vying for her attention, that is.

Henry was safe. She and Regina were – friends? Friends-ish. Friend-like. She didn't know, but they had stopped hurling insults at each other - let alone fists or magic. Crap had been coming at them at full force since the curse broke and now it was time to let the dust settle.

_Things were supposed to be getting back to normal, damn it._

Breakfast at Granny's. Walking Henry to school. Her main problem was supposed to be what the idiot teenagers of Storybrooke had up their sleeves this week and if she wanted to wear her dark blue skinny jeans or her dark gray.

Only life wasn't going that way because every time she began to feel _"normal"_ again these phantom touches would appear; once so comforting, now so confusing.

Why hadn't they stopped? When they left the island she had assumed the touch would stop. She had thought it was some strange magic the island held, which had grown to know her so intimately. She had worried it was Pan though that fear had faded quickly when she realized that the _boy_ could never make her feel the way these invisible hands did.

 

She had been walking down Main on her way to wherever in the heart of Storybrooke a few days after her return when suddenly soft, warm fingers played up her spine in the lightest of touches as if it were saying hello. The tiny hairs on Emma's body stood in immediate attention. At first she had smiled to herself, feeling momentarily a little less lonely before sense kicked in and she froze in place. Jefferson had walked into her, not expecting the sudden roadblock and she had nearly clocked him, thinking for a moment that the intimate touch had been his.

The newly reappeared touches were docile again; it was if they had lost some of their bravado. They had been polite, hesitant; soft caresses to general parts of her body not unlike a massage or the familiar pat you give a very tired friend. They had been startling, but to Emma's surprise she had welcomed them.

However, slowly over the past weeks they had become more familiar and frankly, blatantly sexual; sliding across her stomach just above her panty line as she lay in bed, up a thigh and recently cupping and whispering across her breast, teasing her nipples until she cried out for it to stop as she begged for more.

The touches pulled a longing from her that she had decided to squash down and hide in the pit of herself years ago. Storybrooke was small; there was no way any wild oats were to be sown here. Still, the more the touches coaxed those feelings from her, the harder they were to close away again. They had grown desperate and angry locked in their lonely confinement. She wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to ignore them.

Perhaps if she just had an answer about what it was - no, who – no, what - She had not been sure if it was a person or a thing. Part of her thought that perhaps the touches were phantom or in her mind; a figment of an overly tired and undersexed, under romanced imagination. Then she had watched as the touch had grazed across her stomach and for the first time she had seen the small indent of fingers there.

Startled, she had tried to fight the touches off, kicking at the air and yelling from her late night bed, but the touch had only pulled away for a moment to let her have her tantrum before softly touching her cheek kindly, reassuringly. Then it worked across her skin in such an intimate way that she had been left breathlessly panting, her back arching just slightly off the bed.

It was probably one of the Asses and she hated that fact. More than likely either Neal or Hook had gone to Rumpelstiltskin on the island and asked for some weird-ass piece of magic to seduce her without the other knowing. Any day now he would present himself proudly, probably in front of the other man, smug about his dirty - yet slightly successful - dealings.

What would she do then?

The thought made her want to repel the phantom touches all over again, to deny the connection she knew she felt and hide away completely. She wanted to encourage the men and their stupid and childish rivalry as little as freakin' possible.

But if it did turn out to be one of them, what would she do? The touch, in many ways, had become her best friend and her only source of comfort. Would she deny the man who belonged to those touches? The gentleness she felt through the phantom fingers was sweet, kind and caring not to mention intoxicating. Whichever man it was - if it was one of the men - would be clearly different than she had thought he was.

But – it just didn't feel like it _could_ be either of her newly developed and little-wanted suitors. They both, in their way, seemed as though they would be unable to produce a touch such as this one. Neal, in all of their history, had always been a goofy and awkward lover; something of a grab on and squeeze kind of man. These touches – they were light, soft and pointedly exact as if they knew exactly where to touch a woman to drive her absolutely mad.

And Hook, well, no offense to him but she would put money on the idea that he would be a very selfish lover. His sweet words were nice but she would bet that he would be too busy reaching for his own pleasure to bother much with hers. He couldn't possess this type of skill, no way.

No, these touches couldn't be from either of them. Since there was no one else after her amorous attentions, she was back to thinking that these touches had to be something she was unknowingly concocting, despite the handprint. Could they be alien? Could she center in her own episode of The X-Files?

She had tentatively spoken to her mother a few days after the touches returned asking awkwardly if she ever 'felt' anything strange after being surrounded with magic as she had been in Neverland. Mary-Margaret had laughed, knowingly, "oh yes." she had said, "Things can be quite strange after something like that. But don't worry, sweetie, those things always fade with time."

So she had decided to wait and see, despite the fact that she was sure her mother hadn't meant things like this.

 

* * *

 

Her head was still resting on the desk, letting her body cool from the latest dream when the phantom touch appeared again. It began at the back of her neck and softly stroked the length of her spine.

She shuddered, always a sucker for a tender touch there and then yelped as it slid an inch past the waist of her jeans, hovering just above her panty line. She jerked into a sitting position before her body could begin to slowly rouse into horny triumph again.

"What the shit?" She cried, jumping out of her skin as she saw Regina pouring herself a cup of coffee across the room; her brain too scattered to think straight at this particular moment.

She hadn't realized she was not alone. She hadn't heard Regina enter at all.

Oh god, did Regina know? Of course, she couldn't really know but –

"You have a Cheeto stuck to your face."

Emma blushed and pulled the orange snack from her skin, clearing her throat awkwardly.

"You make a lot of very strange noises in your sleep."

"What?" Emma croaked, shifting through the papers on her desk so she could avoid eye contact.

Did she know what types of sounds they had been? Could she guess? There was no way she would guess, right? The touches, while stimulating, never drew her close to her edge. They never lasted long enough nor touched in all of the right places, but that didn't mean they couldn't pull a few choice noises from her when she was alone - or asleep, apparently. "Uh, sorry. Weird dream. Why are you here?" Emma winced as soon as she said it. Their friendship was tentative, neither woman entirely sure what they wanted from it. That left it awkward and uncomfortable.

"I want to talk to you about that man you brought into my town."

"Who, Neal?"

Regina frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, "Indeed."

"Uh, okay." The navigations of Henry-now-has-two-mommies had been difficult. It had spawned many a fight in its day but now, throwing a third into the mix; Emma had known there would be problems.

"He has decided that Henry will be going out for football."

"What?" Emma scoffed. No way, that was happening.

"Yes, apparently your boyfriend has decided he wants to see our son's face broken and bleeding."

"He's not my boyfriend." She stood, feeling disoriented. It was hard to clear her mind after the phantom touches, they were just – so good. They left her – ugh, they left her too horny to think, god damn it. "You know that."

The former version of Regina would have said something snide and cutting, but instead Regina's face broke into a small smile. Emma knew she was thinking back on the time a few days ago that both men had insisted on her attentions. Emma had panicked, unsure of how to save feelings while remaining - free. Without thinking Emma had word vomited all over the men that she already had plans with Regina and sorry, bye.

She had shown up on the mansion doorstep that night with a bottle of wine and a sheepish grin. Regina had cocked an eyebrow but stepped to the side, letting her in. To the surprise of both, once they got past the discomfort the night had been pleasant. Until, that is, the topic of the men had come up and Regina had started to give Emma a hard time.

"Are you planning on running the opposite direction each time you see them for the rest of your life, Emma?"

It still sent a shiver of surprise down her spine each time Regina said her name instead of Sheriff or Ms. Swan or - something more colorful. "No. I just - I don't know."

She knew she needed to pick one of them but damn, if they would just give her a few days to herself maybe she could do that.

As if the men's ears had been burning, the station door flew open with a slam and Neal and Hook came stumbling in, bickering and shoving like school children.

Regina had to jump back to avoid being run down as they focused only on their goal.

"Em, settle an argument for us." Neal insisted with a confidence that sent a clear message that he knew he would be right.

"Uh, okay."

"Right. He," Neal jabbed a finger toward Hook, who looked like he would happily take it off, "insists that you're having dinner with him tonight at Granny's but, I know he's wrong because you're having dinner at Granny's with me tonight. You told me right before you walked Henry to school this morning, remember?"

"What?" This was all getting to be a little overwhelming. She just wanted a moment alone to calm her body completely and to gather her thoughts. A drink. She could use a drink. What time was it? "How does this stuff come up between the two of you? Do you fucking check in with one another?"

"Oh no, Ms. Swan, they keep giant blackboards over their pathetic beds and make a new check each time you choose one over the other. Then they bask in the glory that is their pathetic and sad manhood’s."

They all ignored her.

"Dinner. Tonight. Him. Or me?" Neal insisted, pressuring her with his eyes. He was always insistent that their past should give him a higher rank in her affections. She couldn't help but to wonder if he remembered that while he had given her Henry - he had also given her incarceration.

Over their shoulders, Emma saw Regina fold her arms, amusement dripping from her sly grin. She cocked an eyebrow at her as if to say 'yes, Emma, which one?' Emma glared.

"Oh I uh, have plans -"

"Actually, I remembered that I have a meeting tonight. I'll have to cancel our plans, Emma." Regina had known exactly what Emma was about to do.

Both men grinned, triumphantly. They seemed to inherently understand that while they were her 'romantic interests', Regina and their son ranked much higher than them.

"I, uh, I don't know." With a promise to contact both of them when she was off work that evening, she shoved them out the door. They went unhappily and began bickering the moment they were outside together.

Regina gave her no time to start in, just leaned in to whisper wickedly, "This is your bed, Emma. Lie in it." Her eyes twinkled with obvious enjoyment of Emma's predicament.

Emma scoffed as she watched the woman sassily sway her hips toward the door. That wasn't fair! She had been thinking about their son on that stupid island. There had been an invisible thing touching her. Things had gotten away from her. She hadn't meant for this shit to start and now, well she was screwed. Maybe she should just let the touch decide for her. If it was one of the men, then that is who she would be with. If the touch were someone else, then screw it, she would be with them. But if the touch was in her mind, then fuck them all, she was going to grow old with herself and a few cats.

"And tell Tweedledum that our son will not be playing football while you're at it." Regina called over her shoulder and was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

She had been unable to satisfy both men and, well, she didn't care. The plain truth was she hadn't been listening when the men had individually insisted that they would take her to dinner. Her thoughts had been on the phantom touch and their origins.

She had double booked.

She had spent dinner that evening with Neal and then gone on a long walk with Hook. But she had been distracted the entire time because what she wanted to do was spend more time pouring over books; none of which ever had the answer she was looking for. Phantom or person? Phantom or freaking person?!

If she was crazy - going crazy - gone crazy - she was hoping that there would be a warning sign or two. But perhaps the phantom touch was her warning sign and she hadn't realized it! Could you really get much crazier than something you can't see touching you?

 

When she fell into bed that night she knew the touches wouldn't come, they usually only came once or twice a week. Still she stayed awake for a while, hoping or perhaps dreading.

Hook was downstairs the next morning with her grinning mother. Mary-Margaret had perhaps not been a huge fan of Hook at first but now, since he had helped to save her husband, she was putty in his hands - hand.

"What are you doing here?" Emma asked grumpily, sipping the coffee that Neal had no doubt dropped off for her before she was up as he did every morning.

"Good morning to you too, love." He stood and wrapped her in a hug. She allowed it, smiling lightly at her excited mother. She hadn't figured out what she was going to say to separate herself from the men - if she was going to at all, but the first person she would need to let down easy would be her mother.

Mary-Margaret insisted that she didn't care which man Emma dated, as long as she saw that her daughter was dating, a.k.a. on the path of true love and true happiness or - whatever. Emma was sure however that her mother did favor Hook.

When he leaned in for a kiss, Emma clicked her tongue and backed away, giving him a shove. He shrugged, knowing he had tried to push too far and proud of himself for it, "Can't blame a man for trying."

"Hmmhmm." Emma sighed.

A knock at the door surprised them all. Emma frowned, usually when there was a knock that no one had expected, it meant trouble.

What was it now? Had little Timmy fallen down the well? Were Aliens attacking? Perhaps instead of aliens it would be giant engorged tomatoes bouncing up and down Main Street.

"Sorry I'm late." Neal grinned and held out her coffee and morning donut. Confused she looked between the cup she was drinking from and the cup Neal was holding.

"Ah man, Em! You got yourself a coffee just because I was late? That's cold."

"Er-"

"Actually Baelfire, it looks like _I_ beat you to it this morning."

Emma turned back into the house, ignoring Neal's small boy scowl, "Killian."

"Neal."

"What are you doing here? Mornings are my time."

"Oh, I didn't know we were assigning ourselves time slots now. Well, if that's the case then I guess I'll take her in the evenings. You can have her in the morning." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Emma groaned.

"It's early guys; I don't have time for this. I'm getting into the shower. Alone. Uh - bye." Her mother scowled disapprovingly as if to say that she did not raise her to be so rude. Emma's eyes rolled in annoyance shooting her a resounding; you didn't raise me at all, mom.

 

* * *

 

"Mom," Henry called through the door as she was dressing, post shower.

"What's up, kid?"

"Your boyfriends are fighting."

"What?" she cried, letting her head fall back in exasperation, "You're kidding me. About what?"

"Coffee." She could hear the shrug in his words.

Emma swore. "All right, go get your backpack. We gotta go. I'll take care of it."

"'Kay."

Sure enough when she entered the living room the men were bickering - nicely - polite smiles on their faces but bickering nevertheless. "Okay, whatever this is about, stop it. No! I don't want to hear it. Go. Out. I need to walk my son to school. You both are welcome here in the mornings but not like this. No! GO!"

Emma left while the men still squabbled with one another about who had the right to bring her coffee.

 

* * *

 

 

"Are you going to date Killian?" Henry asked as they strode casually through the fall leaves.

Emma sighed, "I don't know. I can tell there is a good man under there and I can see that he cares about me. He's changed a lot since we first met and that's great."

"So what's the problem?"

"It's complicated." How did you explain to a child that you wanted sparks? Was it possible to make him understand that dating was a huge pain in the ass so if she was going to do it then she needed it to be worth it? She needed her knees to tremble and her body to ache for the person.

"Oh. Well then are you going to date my dad?"

"I don't know, kid."

Would it be worth it with either of the men?

She had been happy with Neal once - right? But...she had been so young. And Hook he was...charming.

Ugh. She knew that the odds were she would never find out which was the right man - if either - unless she just jumped in fully and gave one a chance. But which? How could she choose? She cared about both of them deeply and in very different ways. It wasn't fair that she was taking this long. Maybe she should just flip a coin. That thought was depressing. Was this really all she had available to her? Two men who were wonderful in their own right but neither of which could make her shiver, make her weak at the knees and giddy all at once?

A soft breeze blew across her face and in it she felt the gentle appearance of fingers. It started at her temple softly and affectionately pushing her hair behind her ear. Then it kindly caressed down her jaw and settled at her chin. Slowly the phantom lifted it as if to say keep your head up before fading away like smoke.

Emma smiled, feeling lighter instantly.

In the pit of herself she knew she hoped it was a person because if it was then this was the person she wanted to give all of herself to. So kind. So warm. So strong.

 

 

That evening she settled into bed for some TV, feeling depressed. The confidence the touch had given her that morning had faded as her phone had blown up all afternoon with desperate texts from Hook and Neal. This wasn't right. She needed to make a choice. Now. They might be, as Regina called them, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, but they had feelings and she knew she was stringing them along.

But what if one of them was the touch and she broke it off with them, unaware?

Her mind whirled and spun, going over her choices again and again until the guilt threatened to take over and consume her.

She sucked. Why couldn't she make this choice?

She groaned as she rolled her shoulders, comfort washing through her.

It took her a long while to realize why her thoughts were calming themselves. The phantom touch had appeared, not doing much of anything. It was merely playing with her hair mindlessly as if it were also laying in bed watching old reruns of Friends on TV. She watched the golden tresses lift from her pillow, wind through invisible fingers, drop and begin all over again. She sighed and closed her eyes, guilt temporarily forgotten. If this _was_ a person, were they sitting in bed right now watching old reruns of beloved TV shows? Is this something they were doing together or was she fooling herself into thinking that for the moment, she wasn't alone?

That night Emma dreamt of a faceless figure standing at the foot of her bed, it's long endless fingers hovering over her, possessively. At first she was filled with terror but as she looked into the featureless face the fear melted replaced by a sense that she knew this person, she knew it well. Though the face was blurry and indistinguishable, she could feel its warm smile, so when she felt the tender fingertips touch her shoulder she obeyed rolling onto her stomach in her usual sleep position. It was only a moment before she felt a ghostly caress across her back in a soft-handed swipe.

Emma's lips parted.

The invisible hand began to draw designs on her back, across her skin; the tank Emma wore was no obstacle.

Emma chuckled comfortably as the gentle fingers slid over either side of her ribs, tickling lightly.

She gasped as the ethereal hands continued down her body, squeezing mildly as it passed over her underwear and then down her thighs, inching just slightly inward so they hovered a breath from where Emma wanted to be touched the most. Her breathing picked up as her fingers clenched tightly in the bed sheets with anticipation, but the touch continued until it reached the heels of her feet and started it's way back up again. The caress lingered momentarily in the sensitive spot at her Achilles, the back of her knees, the underside of her rear, the center of her back, between her shoulders and then just behind her ears.

The room around her began to fill with a soft floral scent as though someone had lit a bergamot aromatherapy candle. It was calming and deeply stirring. She could feel a soft, warm breath flowing in and out behind her ear, breathing against her skin. A hand slid under her hipbone and squeezed, lifting her hips off the bed slightly and holding her in place. She could almost feel the warm body pressing against her back, almost feel a nose bury seductively in her hair, moaning as it took her into its senses.

The other hand reached between her skin and the bedding, cupping her breast. Emma's head came back, resting against the invisible shoulder behind her as she moaned with pleasure.

She rolled halfway over, leaning on the invisible body behind her and cried out as the nimble unseen fingers toyed first with one nipple and then the other, making them stand hard and to attention. She sighed and whined as invisible lips locked onto the back of her neck, the soft hand suddenly rougher on her sensitive skin, cupping and squeezing her breast delightfully.

She groaned.

"Emma."

She moaned in response, the center of her begging for attention.

"Emma."

Emma chewed her lip, her hips moving of its own accord, rubbing against the body she could not see behind her.

"Emma!"

She woke with a start, instantly sitting up in the dark of her room. "What?" She was groggy and confused, her body humming with the dream. Then she recognized her mother sitting at the edge of her bed, blanched and worried. She yelped, nearly falling backward out of bed in her rush to pull the blanket up over her excited body.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Mom?" She blurted out, making Mary-Margaret smile. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, honey, nothing." she softly caressed her cheek.

Emma cringed away, not because she didn’t appreciate her mother's comfort but because - well, being touched by her mother after that dream felt plain wrong.

Mary-Margaret's eyebrows furrowed, but she did her best to pretend as though the cringe hadn't hurt her feelings.

"I'm sorry." Emma immediately started, "It's just that - my dream, um-"

"Yes? What is it, sweetie?"

Words fumbled around in her brain for a moment or two, considering ways she could confess without giving away too much. In the end, she just slumped back on the pillows and exhaled deeply, "I guess it was just a strange dream. I'm all right. Um, thank you."

Mary-Margaret frowned but nodded understanding the dismissal. With a pat on the leg and a sad glance over her shoulder, she left the room.

Emma needed her own place. She needed her own place so badly. One where her mother wouldn't come rushing in to save her from her sex dreams.

Staring up at the ceiling Emma sat and felt her body hum, hungry and demanding. She could feel the night breeze from her open window and even that soft touch was so tantalizing that she wanted to thrust into it and scream.

What the fuck was happening?

Frustrated, she numbly bounced her head off of the headboard. She was dreaming of the touch now? She was sure that hadn't been the actual phantom touch - it had never been more than fingertips, never hands, lips and definitely never a whole body. No, her brain had turned the phantom touch into a body and her unconscious self had been well on her way to having sex with it. What the hell did that mean?

She had to figure this out. She had to find out - if it was a person - who it was. Neal? Hook? Someone else entirely? Or if it was possibly in her head.

 

 

She woke the next morning grumpy and groggy. She showered, allowing the cold water to freeze her skin. But she still felt twitchy, itching and sensitive as if she had been interrupted while touching herself and could think of nothing but getting the guest out of the house so she could continue with her private dalliances.

She clambered downstairs, uncoordinated and was not surprised to see Neal sitting on one of the breakfast bar stools.

"Good morning." He grinned and handed her a cup of coffee.

"Morning."

"What's wrong?"

She took a chance, "Oh, I don't know. I was just up half the night." She waited for smug pride to flash through his eyes, proving that this was his evil work, but all she saw was the aggravating puppy dog concern.

"Why were you up? Are you alright? - Em? Uh...Emma?"

Emma hadn't realized she had been intensely studying Neal until Henry spoke up, milk dripping from his chin as he ate his morning cereal. "Mom?"

"Hmm? Er, never mind. I was just - weird dreams." She turned away, sipping the coffee. Grimacing she put it down in distaste. She felt hungover. Coffee was too strong; she needed something else, something lighter - fresher maybe.

Someone knocked on the door and Emma just sighed, she didn't need to answer it to know who it was. "Come in, Killian."

He entered, grinning, "How'd you know it was me?"

"Lucky guess." she grumbled.

The men greeted each other coldly and Emma just let her head fall into her hands.

"You alright, love?"

Emma snapped, "Look guys, I know that you are unhappy and you want answers. I need to give them to you, I know. It's not fair that I haven't but just for today can you please not fight? I feel like crap."

The men nodded and busied themselves with Henry, fawning over him since fawning over his mother would get them into trouble.

While Henry grinned, enjoying the attention Emma looked in the bags that the men had brought her, a bear claw and a maple bar. Her stomach squirmed. She didn't think she could handle the usual sickly sweet breakfast treats this morning.

Ugh, she needed a nap.

Another knock sounded at the door and all heads turned in unison.

"That's funny, all of our usual breakfast company is already here." David said, sitting next to his grandson to have a bowl of fruity cereal before work.

Emma scowled, but her father just grinned at her, good-naturedly.

"Uh, I'll get it." Henry decided and ran to the door. "Mom?"

Regina stepped in, smiling her special smile that was reserved only for Henry, "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Regina!" Emma grinned, surprised that she was pleased to see her. "What are you doing here? Um, everything okay?"

Regina visibly bit back a snarky comment and instead nodded, "I thought, if you don't mind, that I would walk with you and Henry to school today."

"Oh," Emma grinned, "Sure. Of course."

"Oh and here," she thrust a cup and a small bag into her hands. "I got breakfast for myself this morning and I thought you might be hungry but," she eyed the other bags and cups, "I see that has been taken care of."

Curious Emma sniffed the cup, a strong whiff of peppermint wafted through her and she sighed, "Peppermint tea?"

"Mmm, and a few slices of rye. The last of the batch, as it happens."

Emma sipped, relishing the clean taste of the tea. This was perfect. "Um, thank you - Regina."

Regina nodded tightly, awkward but willingly holding her eyes for just a moment. Emma saw something flicker there. She watched, curious but whatever it was it had faded so fast that she couldn't be sure of it's meaning. Perhaps the former Evil Queen was merely uncomfortable doing kind deeds for others; that wouldn't surprise Emma at all.

"Okay so," Emma turned to Henry, "you ready?"

He was grinning between his mother's, backpack over his shoulder, "Yup."

"Did you brush your teeth?" Regina asked, knowingly, taking over what would have been Emma's next question.

"Moooooom." Henry frowned.

"Henry, you know how this is going to go. Go brush your teeth." Emma chided.

"Okaaay." He slumped off toward the bathroom.

Emma took advantage of the moment to toast the bread and spread a little butter across its face, "How did you know this is my favorite?"

Regina shrugged, "I didn't. It's mine."

Emma grinned and offered her a bite. All eyebrows in the crowd of spectators shot skyward in unison as Regina hesitated for only a moment, watching the blonde then leaned forward and took a small bite.

Emma sipped her tea, chomping down another chunk unaware that the room had stopped functioning, all shocked to their core.

"So, uh, Swan," Hook started after a minute of silence, "the fall festival starts next Friday and,"

"Wait a minute," Neal started, "that's why I'm here. I've been planning it for weeks; no way am I going to let you ruin it."

"What?" Emma frowned.

"Look," Neal started, "we both want to take you to the fall festival next week. Why don't we compromise?" He had clearly decided that diplomacy would get him the furthest with Emma this morning.

"Compromise?" Hook's dark eyebrows furrowed, clearly unhappy that it was Neal who had come up with the wise tactic.

"Yeah, look, I'll take her to the opening night and you can take her to the closing."

"No way! There is nothing that happens on the last night. That's why everyone goes to the first."

Instantly the men started quarreling. Emma leaned against the sink and Regina joined her, watching the show with contemplation.

"It's very attractive, isn't it?"

Regina chuckled, "Well, Ms. Swan, I think until you choose one, the other, both or neither this is what you get."

Emma chuckled, "You're not wrong."

"Do you," Regina shifted awkwardly, "which one do you think you will choose?"

"Um, right now I don't think I would choose either."

"That's rather telling, is it not?"

Emma rolled her eyes.

"Okay, Emma," Neal turned to her, "what about tonight? I thought we could watch a movie or something." He grinned, his mischievous intentions barely hidden. Hook looked like he wanted to knock his lights out.

"Tonight? Oh uh,"

"Actually, we were planning a movie night with our son tonight." Regina provided.

Emma did her best not to let the shock show on her face. Since when did Regina come to her aid? She usually enjoyed Emma creating a mess and then drowning in it.

"Oh then," Neal started, but Regina cut him off.

"Mothers only." Regina's lips pressed into a thin line. "Sorry." she added as an after thought.

"We are?" Henry asked, bounding into the room excited.

"Mmm, Swan/Mills movie night." Emma agreed as if this idea was not entirely new to her.

"Great! Are we ready to go?"

The women nodded.

"Awesome. Let's go, Swan/Mills." Henry grinned at his mothers as they followed him through the door.

That night wasn't the last Emma spent with Henry and Regina that week. As a matter of fact, it seemed that every time one of the men requested her time the name Regina popped from her lips as a reflex.

It was surprisingly fun at the Mills mansion and Emma found that with a legitimate-ish excuse to avoid the attentions of the men, her life began to feel steady again. The phantom touch eased to the back of her mind as it remained absent. As a matter of fact it was nearly forgotten by the time it appeared again…on the evening of the fall festival.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma had decided that since choosing one man over the other would give the impression of favoritism she would simply decline both invitations and go with her favorite man of all - Henry.

The festival wasn't huge, nothing in Storybrooke ever was, but it was fun. There were a few games and booths; one or two wobbly rides that Emma wasn't sure would pass inspection and a haunted house.

She and her son bobbed for apples, participated - and lost spectacularly in a three-legged race and above all chowed down on a the vast selection of fall flavored treats.

She was enjoying herself, but the evening was tinted with a small drop of sadness. Henry was a preteen now and for the first time she noticed that after they had bobbed for apples his cheeks went pink and he quickly ran his hand through his hair self-consciously as a group of giggling girls passed, whispering behind their hands.

He still grinned at Emma when they talked but when she offered to hold his hand, as they used to do all of the time, he declined and sheepishly insisted that his hands were sticky from the cotton candy.

She understood and when a group of awkward, gangly boys appeared and tried to drag her son off toward the haunted house; she let him go.

She found a bench at the edge of the park and took a seat to wait for the boy, hearing his shrieks of enjoyment as he and his friends roughhoused.

"Fancy running into you here. You look like you could use a glass of cider." Hook appeared beside her, his knee propped up on the edge of the bench.

They pretended to clink glasses, careful not to break the tender Styrofoam, "Cheers."

She sipped it and frowned, "Nothing on Regina's. Good thing she isn't here, or she would have something to say about it. You know, I don't get that. Do they know how much she has already made in her basement? Both alcoholic and um, virgin…"

Hook chuckled and mumbled a sarcastic comment into his cup.

"What was that?"

He shrugged, "So, where's Henry?"

"In the haunted house. He wanted to go with a few friends."

"I see. Growing up, eh?"

Emma chuckled, "Yeah, he is."

They stood for a while chatting politely and Emma found that for once things were easy with Hook. He wasn't fighting for her attention; he wasn't being rude or doing something that perhaps he shouldn't. His entire attitude had mellowed and he was almost pleasant. It was - nice. Until his newfound enemy and rival showed up, that is.

"Hey, Em." Neal grinned, blatantly kissing her on the cheek and handing her a huge violent pink cotton candy. "Remember that time we went to that fair in Baltimore? You ate so much of this that you puked pink for, what, like twenty-four hours?"

Emma laughed lightly, remembering her young idiocy.

"And yet, you still eat it?" Hook asked, nauseated.

"Mmm," Emma laughed around a mouthful, "I guess I didn't learn my lesson." She sipped the cider and grimaced, "Oh, these two tastes do not go together well."

"You've just said a mouthful there, love." Hook sighed, taking a large swallow.

"Meaning what?" Neal was instantly aggressive.

"Meaning," Hook sneered, "perhaps your childish tastes don't go well with my adult preferences such as this _adult_ cider."

"Oh yeah? Do you see her eating it? Because I think I see her eating it. See, Em and I always thought that the best times in our adult life were when we let our hair down to be a child for a minute. You might want to try it, Killy. Oh, but then again, that might make you less boring and we wouldn't want that. The more boring you are, the better of a chance _I_ have."

"Hey, guys-" Emma tried to interrupt.

"Perhaps you have over estimated your boyish charms."

"Guys, I was having a good ti-"

"Yeah, well I don't know if you've noticed, _Hook_ but I'm not really a boy anymore. You, on the other hand, are…"

"Guys, this sucks, I-"

"Look _Bae_ , I think we need to make something clear. You are just a boy. If anyone here is the right man for Emma, it's me."

"Hey!"

"Perhaps you shouldn't broadcast quite how old you are, Grandpa."

Hook's hand shot out, grasping Neal by the shirt, his hook glinting sinisterly in the lamplight.

"HEY!" Emma cried, leaping onto Hook's slowly levitating arm. "God damn it!"

Dread filled Emma's stomach, thick and surly. That was it. She needed to put this behavior to rest right fucking now. She was sick of it. Fuck it. She wasn't going to be with either one of them. Apparently she didn't want to be; otherwise she would have started dating one of them by now. Done. Bring on the fucking cats.

The breeze blew across her skin and Emma flushed as she felt the whisper of fingers run down her arm from her shoulder and into her palm as if to give her courage. She almost laughed aloud. It was as if the touch knew she was about to go back to jail for killing both of these men and was trying to warmly discourage her. Or perhaps it knew that she was about to kick them to the curb and was encouraging her entirely.

"I swear to god whichever of you throws the first punch will be on the ground in a fucking second!" She bellowed over their rising voices, feet off the ground entirely as she swung on Hook's arm.

All faces surrounded them had turned to watch the show with wide-eyed delight.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed and hoarsely whispered angrily at them, "That is it. I have had it up to here!"

For a moment, both men looked amused by her angry mama voice until she growled savagely, "This is not what I want. This fighting is ridiculous. What are you both sixteen?" She was trying hard to focus, but her concentration was slipping as the touch massaged her shoulders.

Was it possible she could feel its amusement? How could she know the touch was laughing at her predicament?

"Is this really how you were taught to catch a woman?" She cried, stomping her foot to cover her involuntary twitch as the touch played between her shoulder blades. Both men coughed roughly to hide a laugh at Emma's juvenile epithet. "Because let me tell you, this is bullshit!"

She sensed more than felt the invisible chuckling as the fingers trailed down her spine, over her ass, concentrating for a moment on massaging the backs of her thighs. Her eyes widened in instant panic as the fingers tickled playfully. She squirmed but kept her face stern.

"I'm sorry love, but I have to stay that I feel that this process could be easy and comfortable for all of us only this ass -"

Emma stopped listening. The tickling had settled into warm, sensual rubs across her skin and though she was forbidding it, her body was beginning to respond.

_No, no, no, no, no, not now! Stop it! No, no, no, god damn it!_

She had to do something about this. Daily masturbation. Perhaps if she did that, then her body wouldn't respond like a starving puppy each time this touch appeared.

She coughed to stifle a sigh of pleasure as the touch kneaded her ass. She snorted and rubbed her face aggressively to cover an eye roll as she felt a small pinch to her nipple.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, Emma swore internally.

The men were busy fighting with one another, so they didn't notice the shifting back and forth from foot to foot that Emma had begun to do. Oh, stop it. Shit, stop it. Whatever you are, don't you dare!

As if it knew exactly what she was thinking the touch grazed lightly across her breast in what was usually her favorite way to be touched.

"Hey!" she barked again louder than she meant and slightly off pitch. The men jumped and Emma blushed, "Sorry, I just, I need this to end guys. This is not" she stopped talking when she felt the fingers move from the sensitive place on her breast and begin to travel down her stomach, flat and obvious.

No way. It never touched her there!

"This is not what I want." she said again, "I hate this. You guys are always fighting and I can'tstanditwhenyoudosostopit." Her words picked up pace quickly as the touch neared the top of her underwear until she sounded a lot like an auctioneer in an old western. The touch circled her belly button and with a yelp, white sparks shot from Emma's fingers.

Both men jumped back, swearing. "Swan, are you okay?"

She sighed, relieved as the touch disappeared just past her navel. "Look," she said in a whisper so both men needed to lean forward to hear her, "I won't be mad but whichever if you is doing this, do me a favor and stop it. I won't lie and say that I don't enjoy it because I do but right now is so not the time."

The men looked between themselves, "Doing what?"

"Come here." She grabbed Hook's chin and holding his face in place she studied him. Hook grinned smug for a moment, thinking perhaps that Emma was going to lean in for a kiss. When she only glared into him, he shifted, uncomfortably trying to pull out of the vice grip she had on his chin.

"Uh-"

"Shut up." She continued to search, looking for anything at all that would prove it was him pulling the strings on the magic touch. She found nothing.

Frustrated she shoved his face away and grabbed Neal. She was already sure he was not the touch, but she had to check anyway.

Nothing. She didn't understand, but her knees were beginning to shake as the touch went to work on her body again.

Emma watched their stupid blank faces and finally believed that if it was a person, it was neither of them.

Perhaps she really was going crazy. Perhaps she had been pricked by some weird exotic plant on the island or bitten by a spider that made you hallucinate.

She chewed her lip and blushed under the gaze of the men.

She wanted to twitch, to groan and rub herself on anything that would bring her a little bit of release, but instead she did a small in place jig, swaying back and forth spasming slightly. "What?" she cried defensively as though she didn't look like the polka king right about now. She swayed and bounced, stepping this way and that.

"Emma you um," Killian pointed to her clenching legs.

"Uh yeah," Neal agreed, turning between them, "You uh-"

"I have to pee!" She cried, twitching violently.

"Okaaay." Both men said, frowning.

"Right well uh," Hook tried to turn back to Neal but his eyes kept flicking back to the twitching Emma. "I uh, um, are you sure you're alright?"

"Mmmhmm." She did her best to gather her thoughts and ignore the touch. After a minute it seemed to work, the touch faded into the background and she moved forward. "Look guys, I get it that you're," her leg buckled slightly as the feeling of nails combed over the soft spot behind her knee. She didn't know if this was in her head but she was sure the touch was having a good time, "having a hard time with this so I'm going to do what I should have done a while ago." It rubbed and squeezed the thigh, just below the curve of her rear.

"What?" Both mean cried, stepping forward as if to grab her but she held them at bay with a slightly sparking palm.

"I care about you both deeply, but this is too much."

Emma yelped suddenly like a dog that had been kicked. Her eyes had flown wide and without meaning to she had dropped both the cotton candy and the cider.

"Emma? Emma, what's wrong?"

The touch slid up her center for the second time as if trying to collect the moisture she knew was gathering there.

Emma was doing all she could to keep her lips closed because if she opened it her eyes would roll and she would have to give in to the moaning pleasure as the phantom finger swiped up her sex for a third time. "Hmm? Mmmm, umum." she mumbled. She wanted to get the words out, she wanted to end it with both of them but she just couldn't.

"Swan, do you need to sit down?"

Emma laughed a little to herself as she braced her hands on her knees, her breath suddenly hot and fast in her throat.

I can't…oh god, I can't do this here! She straightened, and chuckled darkly at the look of shock on their faces.

If they only knew.

"Okay." she said, breathing as though she had just run a race, "Anyway, I was saying-"

An invisible finger flicked its way up her center and harshly over the tender bud of her clitoris. She went down on one knee with a cry. The lamp overhead burst and sent a shower of sparks to the ground as Emma accidently let out a surge of unleashed power.

"Emma!" Both men cried and in the distance Emma heard a far off, "Mom?"

Instantly the touch vanished and Emma couldn't have been more grateful. Henry came running full tilt and was at her elbow in a second.

"Hey kid, how was the house?"

"Are you okay?"

She stood quickly, doing her best to hold in her flustered breathing, "What? Of course. Leg cramp."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Um, let's get going home."

Ignoring the upset cries of the men behind them she took Henry back to their shared home. She hadn't broken ties with the men as she, in this moment, was sure she wanted to, but there were more important things to focus on right now.

Once Henry was settled in safely with Mary-Margaret there to keep watch, she turned around and headed right back out.

 

* * *

 

 

This had gone too far and she needed some goddamned questions answered. Now.

She walked with determination straight to Mr. Gold's shop. The sign on the door read closed, but she was having none of that. She pounded against the barrier until finally Belle, apparently scandalized, opened the door an inch.

"Hey, I'm sorry Belle but I need help."

"Sheriff." Gold said from behind his counter "It's not that I am surprised by your rude and obnoxious knocking, if you can call it that. But as you will see if you look, my door says that we are closed. Belle and I were just leaving."

"Look, Gold," She pushed past Belle and inside with an apologetic grimace, "I'm sorry, but I really need your help. I can't wait."

"What's wrong Emma?" Belle placed a friendly hand on Emma's shoulder and Emma wished she wouldn't; her body was still on edge and quite sensitive to the touch.

"Yes. What's wrong, Emma?" Gold repeated, resentfully narrowing his eyes at his girlfriend.

"Well," she paused as the fire that had been fueling her petered away to nothing. How did she explain this? Could she say it out loud?

"Spit it out, dearie."

She took a deep breath and went for the gold, "Has anyone come in recently looking for magic for – me? Anytime well, I don't know…ever."

"Meaning what exactly? What was it you were supposed to receive?"

"No, I mean to use on me."

"You're going to need to elaborate a little."

She groaned, "Fine. Either I picked up a brain worm or something in Neverland or someone is fucking with me. I keep feeling - er, things."

"Things?"

"Fingers."

"Fingers?"

"Hands?"

"Hands?" Gold repeated, looking just as confused as ever.

"Do you mean like someone is touching you?" Belle tried.

"Yes. Only - I can't see them. I can see the indents of the fingers on my… on my skin…. but I can't see the fingers themselves. Please tell me that you know who this is. Or is it in my head? Maybe I, I dunno, popped a squat on a vengeful bush or something in the jungle."

Gold stared at her with revulsion for a long minute while Belle and Emma stared back, blank-faced.

"Where are you when you feel these – fingers?"

"Anywhere and everywhere."

"And where do you feel them? On your body, I mean."

Emma flushed, "Uh – places."

"Places?"

"Yeah? And uh, spots and stuff."

"And stuff." Gold repeated slowly before falling back into his distasteful glare.

"What?" Emma finally cried, jittery and anxious. Whatever the issue was, being stared at by a man with a name fetish did not and would not help!

"Does it feel like this?" He finally asked, flexing his fingers in the air. Instantly she felt an invisible hand tighten on her wrist.

She started, "Yeah, only it usually feels like light brushes. It only grabbed me like that once."

His fingers flexed again and a gentle caress brushed her cheek, "Oh god, yeah. Yeah, that's exactly it. Does that mean it's for sure a person?"

"Definitely."

A surprising mix of emotions passed through Emma then; shock and irritation, disgust and intrigue – but more importantly hope. Suddenly Emma felt a wave of hope. "Crap. Who?"

"Well, I don't know. Someone with magic, obviously."

"Oh god," Emma eyed him with disgust, "It's not you, is it?"

He chuckled, "No."

Belle cleared her throat and looked decidedly in the opposite direction.

"Okay good. Uh, sorry Belle."

"But I do have a magical object missing."

"You do?"

"Indeed. Granted, I do not know how long it has been gone since we have been away but it could be used to harness some short term magic for one of your _many_ admirers."

She shot him a dry glare before continuing, "In other words it could be anyone - not just somebody with magic."

"Exactly."

Emma's spirits plummeted. Now what was she going to do? "So how would I find them?"

"It seems to me that finding someone would be _your_ area of expertise. You are a Charming, after all. Now if you'll excuse me."

She found herself back on the sidewalk feeling absolutely no better.

She tossed and turned all night in her bed, sleep a distant stranger. Who the hell could it be? She pictured everyone from the Asses to Leroy to the bagging girl at the deli. It could literally be anyone at all.

But on the bright side, it was a _someone._ Maybe she wouldn't have to be alone.

 

* * *

 

Mary-Margaret was beginning to worry about her daughter. The girl was falling into new routines that Mary-Margaret had never seen before. Emma was up each morning making breakfast for the household. Once, unbeknownst to Emma, she had come down the stairs to find that her clearly delusional daughter was dancing over the skillet…without music…and talking to someone who wasn't there. She was even pausing as though getting some type of response. Most concerning of all was that Emma, despite her growing coldness toward her suitors, was giggling…her eternally grumpy, chronic worrier of a daughter was giggling with this…thing that she was seeing.

She had considered pulling Regina aside to discuss the problem, only she didn't know if she could find it in her to tell her one-time enemy that her daughter was cracking up.

She watched Emma grin as the third knock of the morning sounded and Emma called for Regina to let herself in. She watched them do their usual morning ritual of shuffling awkwardly toward one another, as if they thought perhaps a handshake or a hug was in order only to nod stiffly, share a grin and move their attention back to Henry or whatever Emma was cooking.

She watched Regina put her drink of the morning on the breakfast bar along with the daily cups of coffee and the forgotten junk foods from Neal and Hook and settle against the counter next to her daughter. Lightning flashed through her as she saw Regina's eyes swish quickly to the men and then over her Emma's face, tenderness blossoming there for only a moment. _No!_ There was no way!

"What is it today?" Emma asked over her shoulder, scraping the eggs around the huge pan.

"Chai with a small amount of milk and honey."

"Chai? Like what they have at Starbucks?"

Regina rolled her eyes, "No, Emma. Not like what they have at Starbucks. Will you just try it please, Ms. Swan?"

Mary-Margaret's eyes narrowed as she watched Emma take a sip and light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile played at Regina's lips. Oh god. Yes. It was true. Oh god, no! There was no mistaking that look. She had seen it on Regina's face before - with Daniel.

"Oh my god, this is so good. Mom, try this."

She did, watching as the two oblivious men's faces fell. Their drinks and snacks were unfavored for the seventh day in a row.

Mary-Margaret battled with herself. If Regina - oh god. If her speculation was correct then, there would be no one better at helping Emma than Regina but dear lord, she had to fix it. That couldn't happen. Distaste filled her stomach at the thought of giving Regina that much power, that solid of a place in Emma's life. No. She needed to intervene.

"So uh, Emma," Hook shifted on the breakfast stool. Emma's smile drooped in the corner, but she gave the man her attention, "somehow I feel like I haven't seen you much lately, would you uh,"

"MOM!" Henry bellowed from upstairs and both women turned toward the sound. "Where's my red shirt? I need my red shirt today!"

Regina turned to Mary-Margaret's daughter, "Did you wash it? I told you about red shirt day."

Emma rolled her eyes, but her drooping smile perked up again, "I know you did and I washed it! It's in your drawer Henry!"

There was a beat of silence and Hook tried again, "So Emma-"

The sound of stampeding elephants sounded and Henry appeared between his mothers, dressed in red and bouncing anxiously "Let's go! We're going to be late! Come on!"

"But I-" Hook tried but gave up. "Have a good day, lad."

And with that Emma, Regina and Henry were gone.

"Might I ask what the hell is up with her?" Hook turned to Mary-Margaret looking grumpy. For once even Neal looked as though he couldn't agree with his nemesis more.

"Um, well-"

"Maybe it's that time of the month." Hook grumbled.

Mary-Margaret and Neal groaned together, "You did _not_ just say that!"

 _How_ was her plan supposed to work if this buffoon was involved?

 

* * *

 

Emma was getting this whole wake up early and cook routine down nicely. It had been about ten days since she had tried to break it off with the men at the festival and she was quite pleased that she hadn't. Since her revelation that the touch had to be a person she couldn't break it off; not until she knew for sure who the touch was. She would just keep them at arm's length until she knew. After all, it wouldn't be long now...right?

She washed and brushed out her hair, dressed and then stood in front of her mirror waiting for just a second. Often she would get a sleepy brush of fingers around this time from her phantom secret admirer, a quick and simple hello. It looked like whoever the phantom touch was; they were still in bed. So whistling lightly she headed to the kitchen to get started on breakfast for the large group of people she knew would be sitting in her dining room within the hour.

She had thought long and hard about what to do now that she knew that her secret touch was somewhere in the town. She had oscillated for a few days between two very conflicting feelings. First was the contempt and anger that there was someone doing these personal and intimate things to her - with her and they didn't even have the balls to tell her who they were! The second was a deep and aching depression that, whoever they were, they were either too scared or too intimidated to let her know they existed. Images she had of the person behind the touch kept changing. In one moment, it would be a strong and playful person, teasing her and making her giggle like a schoolgirl. Then in the next moment they would be wise and seductive, touching her in ways that she had never been touched before, smoothing her stress despite the fact that Emma could not see or hear them. She would settle on one or the other only to remember that while strong and wise this person was also a coward, too afraid to face her and yet too enamored to leave her alone. This made it impossible for her to take even a wild guess about who the hell it could be.

Emma had searched through books and Mr. Gold's shop finding a few locator spells but they, in the end, were not helpful at all. They all required an item from the person being sought - which seemed, to Emma, to defeat the entire point of a locator spell. Besides, the one time she had attempted to make one of the spells work she succeeded only in catching the scroll on fire - which nearly caught the couch on fire. It had been a near miss. Thankfully David had been walking in the door just then because he, at least, had the sense to toss a pot of water on the flames instead of freezing in horror as Emma had done.

After that, she had decided she had two choices when it came to her Mystery Date. One, she could rebel. She could ignore the touches. She could wait until they showed again and then tell whoever was watching and listening that she would have no part in this unless the coward revealed themselves - and hope that didn't just scare them away. Or, choice number two, she could do the exact opposite. She could play with it. She could flirt with it. She could kill it with kindness and continually insist that whoever it was, she just wanted to know and perhaps they could go from there.

She had decided to go with option number two because if she was completely honest with herself; she wasn't sure she _could_ ignore it completely.

She cracked an inordinate amount of eggs into the pan and added a few choice herbs and spices that Regina had recently taught her to use. She was just putting the sixth piece of bread into the toaster when Mary appeared, grinning.

"Good morning, sweetie!"

Emma grinned and went back to the simmering pile of eggs, "Morning! How'd you sleep?"

"Oh, fine. How about you?"

Emma shrugged with a small smile; no way she would be telling her mother about the dreams she had the night before.

"Henry up?" David asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Not yet. Will you grab him?"

"Sure." Her father flashed his most charming of smiles and disappeared.

"Emma, honey, did you remember to get the paper from the step?"

"Oh crap, I didn't. Sorry mom."

Mary-Margaret grinned to herself still not over the simple delight of hearing that word come out of her daughter's mouth, "That's alright. I'll get it." She danced gracefully out the door.

Someone gently tapped on Emma's shoulder. Reflexively she glanced over her shoulder but no one was there. She frowned but returned to the eggs. The tap came again, this time from the opposite side. Emma jerked her head back quickly, a grin starting in the corners of her lips.

"Oh yeah?" she asked the air, waiting.

The tap came again to her opposite shoulder, but Emma purposely didn't look, laughing to herself, "Not going to."

The tap came again from the shoulder she was not looking over, "Nope. Not going to do it."

The tap came again.

"Nope. Can't make me."

It tapped again, a little harder and Emma began to laugh, "No way!"

The tap poked her hard in the shoulder and Emma jumped, finally giving in and turning her head, "What?" she cried.

The tap stopped and instead poked her teasingly in the nose.

Emma burst into laughter, loud and happy. "You're in a playful mood today, aren't you?"

There was a soft nudge against her shoulder.

"You know," Emma tried, slyly, "If you tell me who you are then we could, you know, be playful or - whatever _in person_."

The nudge hesitated.

"Oh come on! Why not? I swear I won't bite! Unless you want me to that is." She waggled her eyebrows at the empty air. Silence from the touch. "Ugh, come on! We're going to have to meet eventually."

The door opened and Mary surveyed the room, "Who are you talking to, honey?"

Emma sighed, swallowing back her laughter, "Oh, just my demons, mom. Just my demons." The touch jabbed her hard in the ribs making her squirm and bite her lip to keep from laughing all over again. Whoever this was, she loved how playful they could be.

Mary frowned, "Are you sure? I could have sworn-"

Emma smiled sweetly, "Nope, just me, mom." The touch began poking her at a steady rhythm and running up and down her neck, tickling as if to say, nu-uh, you're talking to me! Emma flushed, "You never talk to yourself?"

"I suppose so."

With one teasing flick to the earlobe, the touch faded away, right as Henry and David appeared and there was a brisk knock at the door.

"Come in!" The whole family chimed and Regina walked in, still powdering her nose before slipping her small compact mirror into her purse.

"Good morning all." she said stiffly.

Emma did a double take, sure she had seen a twinkle of laughter in her eye but no, perhaps she had been mistaken.

"What did you bring today?" Emma asked, returning to her cooking. She and Regina did their usual morning routine of an almost friendly hug that turned instead into a brisk nod before they moved on.

Regina produced a melon insisting that it was to go with breakfast and handed over a cup of Emma's recent favorite; a simple no frills latte.

Neal and Hook showed up not long after with their experimental drink offers; a dark Earl Grey with a slice of Granny's pound cake from Hook and a light and festive pumpkin latte with a biscotti from Neal. Emma had been insisting for the past week that everyone stop bringing her food in the morning, but it seemed that no one wanted to listen, hopeful that their treat would be the winner of the day.

She drank a sip of Earl Grey, as well as of the sugary pumpkin treat and then settled on the biscotti and Regina's latte.

Out of the corner of her eye, she was sure she saw Regina shoot the men a smug look but once she gave her attention to her fully, the look was gone.

"Oh shit, it looks like we're out of juice!" Emma cried as the food was being plated.

"What?" Henry cried and then glared at the group, trying to search out who it was that had finished the carton.

"Oh, that's alright, sweetie." Mary-Margaret shrugged, but Emma shook her head. Henry loved his glass of orange juice in the morning.

"It's okay, I can run and grab some." She pocketed her keys, threw on her jacket and slipped out the door in a moment.

"Ms. - Emma!" Regina called from behind her, clicking her way to catch up with her.

"Regina?"

"I am only going to say this once. Do. Not. Leave me with those people."

Emma's lip twitched, "Okay. Come on then."

They walked in a stiff silence until, sipping her own latte, Regina came up with a topic of conversation, "So Ms. - ugh, Emma. What is happening with Tweedledee and Twiddledum? They have been here every morning, but I have to assume since _both_ men are still here that you have not made a decision as of yet."

Emma shoved her hands deep into her pockets and shrugged, "Not exactly."

"Really?"

"I don't know." They entered the shop and headed straight for the refrigerated section.

"You don't know?" Regina's voice was dry and cool.

"I guess, I do but -"

"May I ask which lucky man gets the prize?" Emma was sure that if Regina stepped any closer to the glass of the wall length refrigerator with that icy voice, the entire thing would freeze from the outside in.

Emma shrugged, grabbing the orange juice and bouncing from foot to foot. Should she tell her? She could tell her and then see what Regina had to say. But then again, this was Regina; she would probably tell her to get her head checked. "Well, uh, it will probably be neither of them."

"Neither of them?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think so."

"You don't want to date either of them?"

"I don't know. They're nice guys and everything. But um, no." she finally finished bluntly, "I just um, have some things I need to take care of before I, er, tell them."

Regina's lips pursed until her lips were thin and hard, "Well I suppose that explains why you avoid them like you do."

"I do not!"

"You do, Ms. Swan. You do."

"Does that mean that you" Regina uncharacteristically stumbled on a box in the middle of the aisle and Emma had to reach out quickly to steady her. "Um, thank you. As I was saying; does that mean there is someone else who has thrown their hat into the ring for your attentions?"

Emma cleared her throat awkwardly, "Um…"

 

* * *

 

What Emma did not know is that while she and Regina were on their juice run Mary-Margaret, David, Hook and Neal were also having a bit of a chat.

"I don't know, I think even pea-brain here can agree that something has changed with her. She's...I don't know -"

"Distant." Neal provided, his glare burrowing into Hook's temple.

Mary-Margaret chewed on a slice of the melon thoughtfully, watching Henry ignore them for a few minutes of his video game before breakfast, "I've noticed too. Perhaps, hmm, perhaps what needs to happen is well, perhaps you both need to stop giving her the choice of turning you down."

"Uh, come again?" Neal just blinked at her.

"Well…"

 

* * *

 

Emma and Regina reappeared in the dining room a few minutes later and affectionately kissed either side of their son’s temples before ordering him off the game and to his food.

Something was different in the atmosphere and it put Emma on edge. There was a cloud of thick silence as they all began to eat and both Emma and Regina couldn't help but to glance around in confusion.

Tension seemed to heighten as time passed and by the time the meal was done Emma felt twitchy and stiff.

"What's going on?" Regina whispered as they cleared their plates into the sink.

"I have no idea, but it's fucking creeping me out."

Hook appeared at their side, a small grin of confidence on his face, "Look love, can we talk outside?"

Emma frowned but nodded, sure that whatever he wanted to say she was not going to like. "Uh, I'll be - right back. Regina can you,” she pointed toward Henry, who was staring off into space at the end of the table but stopped when she caught sight of the look Regina held. The woman was suddenly livid, arms crossed tightly, glaring daggers into the back of Hook's head. "Regina?"

The woman was cool steel, only her eyes moving to Emma.

"What's wrong?"

Regina all but jumped as though she had been goosed and her features settled into her usual look of casual annoyance, "We will be leaving in five minutes, with or without you, Ms. Swan."

Emma frowned, but Hook pulled her into the hall before she could say anything else.

"Look, Emma," He started, his cool confidence sliding into nerves once they were alone. "I don't know what exactly is going on with you, but I do feel that you have cooled toward me as of late. It isn't any wonder really with Baelfire and I always on your heels. So I was thinking that I have two choices. I could be the bigger man and step away, or I could be the man who steps up and says you should be with me."

Dread pooled in Emma's stomach. Oh noooo!

"After much deliberation I have decided to be the second man."

"Hook-"

"I think it just needs to be done."

"Killian-"

With surprising gentleness Hook pulled Emma into a tight hug, "Emma Swan, I think I am the man for you." He whispered, "And I wish that you would give me a chance."

He leaned back slightly and Emma's heart leapt. Crap. She knew what was coming.

Sure enough, the man's charcoal rimmed eyes began to smolder and slowly he leaned down to place his lips upon hers.

Before Emma as able to push away from his lips, a soft breeze blew across her skin and **WHAM**! Emma was grabbed by the back of the neck and thrown backward out of Hook's arms. She stumbled and landed with a hurummph hard on her ass, her eyes giant with shock. Quickly, she flicked around but no one was there, no one had grabbed her yet, a firm phantom hand was placed across her chest as if holding her back from the man.

"I uh, wha" Emma stuttered.

"You uh," Hook looked down at his chest and then back at Emma, "you want to explain what in the bloody hell is happening here, Swan?"

"Wha?" Emma gasped as she realized her touch, whatever - whoever - it also had a solid hand on Hook, keeping him a distance away. It was almost as if the touch stood between them, keeping them apart.

The door swung open and the touch vanished as quickly as it had come. Hook stumbled forward a bit at the sudden release and glared at Emma.

Neal came marching out of the door, mumbling determinedly, "Nope, I'm sorry but I can't. Whatever is happening out here is not okay with me. Nope, I - what are you guys doing? Emma, why are you on the floor?"

She scrambled to her feet, "I uh,"

"Emma, you didn't need to use magic on me-" Hook grumbled, hurt.

The door swung open again and a baffled Henry was shoved out by a red-faced Regina.

"Look Emma, whatever this asshole is saying ignore him." Neal started. Emma groaned. She wished they wouldn't do this in front of her son. "You and I, we have a history and I refuse to let that go to waste. We have a child together for F-U-C-K sake."

"Neal! The spelling doesn't help!"

"Emma, I love you!"

"Swan, this man is no man at all! He's a manchild. As I just told you I -"

"What the hell is with you two?"

Neal shrugged, "Your mom thought that we should maybe-"

"Throw ourselves at you, was the words she used, love."

"What?" Emma asked in disbelief. "She said that? Really?"

Regina took one more look at the men and began to usher Henry past them.

"Regina, wai-"

Regina swung around on her heels, "Oh let me guess Ms. Swan. Looking for a daring escape?"

Emma took a quick step back.

Regina's face had suddenly changed, controlled into the furious mask of the bitter and cold Evil Queen. It was - a face that Emma had thought was long dead.

"Oh I'm sorry boys but I can't go out with you tonight - "

"Mom!" Henry scolded.

Emma blinked, stunned and hurt by the sarcastic mimicking voice Regina was using.

"I have plans I have just made up with Regina! I'm sorry but not tonight, Ms. Swan!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I am talking about this!" Regina jerked a hand between the men, "Perhaps I don't have a choice in the company that you keep but I do, however, have a choice in the type of behaviors that my son is exposed to! This type of lecherous and two-faced behavior is the _first_ that I can cross off of that list!"

"Two-fa - what?" Emma's shock and fire instantly began to melt, pouring out of her soul as her hopes deflated, leaving only a numb and disconnected pain. "Re-"

"Another will be removing the type of person who is so cowardly that they can not or will not maneuver their own disasters!" Her voice was huge in the small hallway and instantly the loft door flew open again, David sticking his head out to investigate the sudden commotion. "Despite what you think, I am a person! I do have feelings!"

Emma meant to yell, as Regina was yelling, but suddenly she found she didn't have the strength. So instead her voice came off monotone and dry, "Of course you do. I never said otherwise, Regina."

David took a long look at his daughter's face, feeling a flicker of fear. It was as though in those last few moments all emotion in his daughter had died; leaving only a husk of a girl, blank and empty. She had shut down completely. He cleared his throat and slipped from the doorway, "I'll uh, I'll take Henry to school."

"Thank you, David." Regina nodded. As soon as Henry was gone Regina rounded on Emma again, "You know what, I can't believe how you use people, Emma Swan. Do you think of no one but yourself?"

"What?" She asked weakly, the corner of her lips slackening into a twisted frown. She had been such a fool. This look, this look on Regina's face - she had forgotten how much it cut at the most sensitive parts of herself. What had she been thinking?

"You feel nothing for those around you, do you?" Regina continued to growl, predatorily. She had narrowed in on her prey and she was going to go for the kill.

Emma's face flushed distantly, humiliation and anger flicking like flint trying to rise past the numb that protected Emma from serious injury; the numb that kept Emma a survivor instead of a victim. She thought they were past this. She thought these types of fights were over. "Don't tell me what I feel, Regina. What the hell crawled up your ass?"

If Regina looked at Emma, fully looked at her at that moment she would have realized she was truly hurting the blonde but the villain in her had been triggered. "Eloquently stated, Ms. Swan. As usual." She turned to go but thought the better of it, "I had foolishly talked myself into thinking that we were friends, but we're not friends, are we, Emma? No, I'm just your escape plan from Thing One and Thing Two."

"What? That's not-" Emma's small gasp was nothing but a whisper.

"Why don't you tell these men? Huh, Emma? Tell them that you have been stringing them along for your own asinine reasons."

"What?" Hook cried.

"Emma, is that true?"

Lethargically Emma lifted a hand up for silence. She stared blankly back at Regina, her eyebrows pulling together, "I thought -" to her humiliation tears welled, "I thought we were friends. Weren't we -" the vulnerable crack closed itself and anger filled in the empty places within her, "I had thought we were friends now too, but I guess _I_ was the delusional one. God, you will never change will you, Regina? Every time I think we are on solid footing you pull some shit like this." She studied the Viper at the foot of the hallway and once again she let the fog overtake her, "You know what, I'm done. I'm done trying to be your friend. Fuck it!"

Regina's back straightened and she carefully brushed out her skirt suit, a cold look of hate on her face, "Yes, well. If you will excuse me, Ms. Swan. Some of us have other things in our lives to focus on besides a train wreck of a love life."

"Not all of us _have_ love lives." Emma spat back.

One small eyebrow rose on Regina's face before she turned to leave.

Monotonous anesthetized horror filled Emma, covering the far off anger, hurt and betrayal. Just as Regina pulled open the door to disappear, Emma spoke, "You know, you were never an escape plan, Regina. I was actually stupid enough to think the Evil Queen and I were friends."

Regina hesitated for just a moment before she disappeared.

The air hung dead and tense around her as she gazed at the empty doorway. Emma felt empty, stupid and used. Somewhere in her she realized that tiny tears had boiled over and she sniffed, sharply.

"Emma-" Neal began but stopped when Emma jumped, clearly having forgotten they were there.

She bit her lip and rounded on them. They both took an involuntary step back, suddenly nervous in the presence of the dead-eyed woman. Emma saw the action and the excruciating numb settled thicker, heavier. It took everything she had in her to say, "Look guys," her voice cracked and she had to stop and take a deep breath, "She was right about one thing. I don't want to date you. Either of you."

The men reached for her, but she took a quick step back, "No. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. That was wrong." Her voice cracked again and she started toward the door, "I'm sorry, but I don't."

She pushed through the door and closed it tightly behind her, the tears overflowing the dam.

Distaste filled her as she looked up and into the shocked face of her mother.

"Emma," she breathed. But Emma couldn't stand to look at her. How could she have told two men, the two men fighting over her for weeks and adding too much strain to her life - how could she have told them to try harder? She really didn't know her at all, did she?

"Will you tell David that I will be at the station later, please?" she choked and in two bounds she was in her room and releasing the floodgates.

She dropped onto her knees on her bed, aching for the release of real, soothing and cleansing tears to wash away the numb that she knew of old. She hadn't realized how much the tentative friendship with Regina had meant to her. She hadn't realized how much she had let Regina under her walls as of late. Until now, when the sharp words Regina had flung at her left Emma bloody and wounded. When had Regina become so important to her?

How could she have been so stupid? Had she forgotten that she was Emma Swan? Emma Swan didn't get to have friends. Emma Swan didn't get to have relationships. Emma Swan would always be alone and she was an idiot for thinking, even for a moment, that she would ever be any different.

Hate - hate for herself - hate for her life flowed through her and she let her head fall forward until it rested on the bed between her knees.

Nothing would ever change for her, would it?

Life had been so hard when she first got here when she was constantly fighting the Mayor/Evil Queen. Every day she had considered leaving for the good of the town, for the good of her son. Was her life back to that now? Was she really such a bad influence on their son? She had made some mistakes but -

Tears began to pour through her as she contemplated her lunacy, but there was no relief. This was not crying; it was a reflex - like sneezing and blinking. They soaked the bed below her and yet the vice grip the pain had wrapped her heart in would not release.

The soft breeze blew and in it she felt a feather light touch on her back. She flinched, unable to be touched, skin sensitive; on fire. Softly the touch settled on her back, simply resting there for a long while as the callous water fell from her eyes.

"You don't understand." she whispered to the invisible something. "Her face - she looked at me like she hated me again. Like I was a bug...I am a bug." She pictured Regina contorted with loathing and a touch of pain. Her chest squeezed harder. "God how could I be so stupid?"

Gently the touch pulled on her arm. Emma followed mindlessly until she was resting on her pillows. Softly, tenderly the touch caressed her forehead and temple, soothingly. The cold that Emma had inadvertently wrapped herself in cracked.

The stroke came again.

Emma gasped, choking.

Once more the stroke crossed her skin.

Emma exploded, sobs wracking her body.

This was her life. All of her life. Picked up by a willing somebody only to be dropped. And she had just been dropped again. Thrown away. Unwanted trash.

Her body shook, her eyes closed with relish as she felt the kind touch down into her soul.

She had no idea how long she cried, her thoughts on the deepest and darkest places in her life. Eventually the tears began to dry and, exhausted, Emma began to slip into a coma-like sleep. Just before she passed completely from her current world of nightmares into one of dreams, she let one more thing pass her lips. "And you." she whispered as another tear slipped from her eye and dripped off of her nose, "If you truly care about me this much then why won't you tell me who you are?"

The touch hesitated, breaking its stroking rhythm for just a beat before carefully, it continued and Emma dropped into a lonely, brokenhearted sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think canon universe states that the first four season happened in around three years, but I decided to make it a year a season.

Emma woke late in the afternoon, weak and flu-like. Her temples pounded out a painful bass rhythm and her eyes were swollen and sticky. She groaned and covered her face to block out the sun. She started when she felt the soft breeze of her phantom touch brush her hair out of her eyes. "Did you stay this entire time?" Emma asked the air.

A long stroke down her cheek and over her jaw was her only answer.

Her jaw fell slack in confused wonder, "You stayed?"

Another stroke.

She didn't understand. This - person - somewhere in town had known about her fight, watched her cry, comforted her and then stayed while she slept just be - what - be sure she was alright? "Who are you?" Her voice barely a whisper.

A soft stroke fell across her chin.

Emma frowned, feeling all at once inspired and brokenhearted, "Why won't you tell me?"

"Is it because you're unavailable?"

"Is it because you don't actually want to be with me?"

Then the thought hit her and she sighed with understanding, "It's because you think that I won't want to be with you."

The touch stroked her jaw.

"I see. But how do you know that? You could be wrong."

Emma rolled onto her back, staring intently up at the ceiling as though if she looked hard enough a figure would appear, "I wish you would just tell me."

There was another pause before the softest of brushes touched her lips and then trailed away, dissolving like mist. Emma's cheeks tinted pink and she couldn't help the goofy grin that popped onto her puffy face. She knew that in her touch's way; Emma had just been kissed.

After a minute, she checked her watch. She should go into the station, it wasn't fair to leave David there by himself but -

She got up and tiptoed downstairs, her ears sharp for any sounds of her roommates.

Grateful she grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and falling onto the couch she covered her swollen eyes.

Sighing into the cold she found her mind wandering. She felt...okay - maybe not wonderful but...okay. Normally she was groggy for a few days after the numb fog covered her, walking around in a stupefied trance. Why wasn't that the case?

Emma had a feeling she knew. The touch. Had she ever in her life been soothed out of her depression before? No. There had never been anyone to do that for her. She had never had a family or loved ones of any kind.

This new turn of events was interesting.

"Emma?"

She froze at the sound of her mother's hesitant and worried voice. Of course, Mary-Margaret was home. She wouldn't have gone to work today after everything that had happened this morning. "Mom," she said from under the peas "I'm going to say this as nicely as I possibly can. I really don't want to talk to you right now, okay?"

"Emma!" Mary-Margaret gasped breathily.

Anger surged and Emma ripped the bag off of her eyes, "Why did you tell Neal and Hook to do that?"

Mary-Margaret crossed her hands in front of her, her Loafered feet twisting at the ankles as she squirmed, "Tell them what, Emma?"

Emma shot her a dry glare.

"I just, I just thought that perhaps if they took a stand for you that maybe you would have an easier time choosing one, honey."

Emma could see that even her mother didn't believe that lie. She glared; waiting for her mother to crack but her young face set and in it Emma could see where she had inherited her stubbornness. "Fine. Don't tell me. But I'm pissed. I can't believe you would do that. You just- ugh!"

"Honey," Mary-Margaret said in her best teacher/mother voice, "I was only trying to help."

Emma eyed her skeptically. She didn't really believe her, but her mother with her tiny pale face, cardigan, blouse, tweed skirt and white stockings was very difficult to be angry at. It was like trying to accuse a librarian of treachery - it just didn't work. So Emma rested her head back again and covered her eyes.

"Emm-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay."

xxx

The fight with Regina had been on a Friday morning, which meant she had the entire weekend to think about how and what to do about it. She thought perhaps it was best to pretend this bridge to friendship had never been crossed. They had been enemies before and she could make that work again - but if Regina thought that she could entertain the idea of taking her son away from her again, then she had another damn thing coming. It had taken her a while to be willing to stake her claim on the boy before but not this time, no fucking way. Henry was her child just as much as he was Regina's and that was the way it was going to fucking be.

Mostly Emma kept to herself, spending time in her bedroom and receiving occasional visits from Henry - when he was not with Regina. She wasn't alone, however. Her touch seemed to be by her side at all times, only disappearing now and then as, Emma assumed, life called on the other end of their invisible tether.

Her touch was tentatively sweet the rest of Friday and into Saturday morning. By Saturday afternoon, it had become playful again, teasing her as she tried to fill out her paperwork at the station. She would go to sign her name and suddenly the paper would be two feet away or she would put something into the copier only to find that it had been unplugged. She would plug the machine back in, press the start button and find that the plug had been pulled yet again.

When she wasn't working, she talked to the touch, telling it of anything and everything that passed through her mind from commentary on the locals to long winded stories of foster families past.

By Saturday night, Emma was ready to take on whatever Regina would bring Monday morning - if she showed up as usual.

For the first time late Saturday evening as she prepared for bed, she wished she was not alone. She wished that the touch, her touch whoever it was could be there with her. What would that be like? Would they be as playfully teasing as they were now? What would it be like to be held by them instead of tenderly stroked here and there?

A light breeze blew across her back as she pulled on her ribbed tank and ponytailed her hair. "Well hello."

Emma smiled and felt a small tug on her earlobe as a greeting. "It's late, what are you still doing up?"

Emma chuckled to herself, "Having conversations with you is fucking frustrating, you know. Knock one for no, two for yes." Two small pulls at her earlobe had her laughing, heartily. "Well, as long as you know this is a pain in the ass."

She clambered into bed and clicked off the light. "Are you in bed right now too?"

Two small pulls on her ear.

Emma sighed suggestively and felt a small swat. "Okay fine, if you're not going to join me then I'm going to go to bed!" She stuck her tongue out at nothing and rolled into the pillows.

A few minutes had passed before Emma shrieked, a long tickle running up the sole of her foot. "Hey!"

Just as she was dozing, another tickle made her yelp loudly and jerk.

"Emma?" she heard from downstairs.

"Stop it!" Emma hissed sitting up, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

She pulled herself back under the covers and only had a second before she was yelping and flailing, pinned as her foot was tickled over and over again.

Footsteps thundered to her room and the door flew open. The touch vanished as Emma screamed.

Her father had come in; baseball bat raised high crying, "What's wrong? What's wrong?"

"Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!"

"What's wrong?" David bellowed.

Emma thought fast, "I'm sorry! There was a spider in my bed."

Her dad stared at her in wide eyes disbelief, "What?"

"A spider."

He dropped the aggressive stance and blinked down at his daughter, her blankets disheveled and a guilty look on her face. For a moment he wondered if she had a man stashed in her closet. "Um, well - are you okay? Did it bite you?"

"No, I'm fine. I think I got it."

"Okay. Um,"

"I'm sorry!"

"It's okay. Goodnight, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead and with a puzzled glance over his shoulder he was gone.

Emma just clicked her tongue in the air, feeling the phantom laughter again. "You're an asshole, I hope you know that."

Two tugs on her ear and Emma chuckled as she laid back down.

The touch was only gone for a minute of two before she felt it press lightly on her shoulders, massaging.

"Mmmm," she sighed, in enjoyment, closing her eyes, "that feels nice."

The touch concentrated on her shoulders for a bit, pulling soft moans from Emma before it moved to her breastbone and neck. "Mmmm."

Something of a flat palm ran smoothly down between her breast, making Emma's breath hitch, but it simply moved over her stomach, rubbing deep circles into the skin.

Self-consciously she tried to keep her body calm as the touch massaged into her stomach and hipbones, internally biting her lip and regulating her breath. Her face blushed and she tried not to show her embarrassment. The touch had been keeping it polite since the evening of the festival and as that was Emma's only recent sexual activity - Emma's body was ready and waiting. The touch moved round circles in her tight stomach muscles and accidentally - or perhaps on purpose, ran a hand over the top of Emma's underwear line. Emma didn't mean to; she didn't want to give away her body's reactions but against her will Emma let out a small gasp. The touches movements stopped mid rub and Emma let out a cry, covering her face with a pillow. This was so much more embarrassing now that she knew there was a person on the other end. "I'm sorry!" she cried in a hoarse whisper. "It's been a really long time! I haven't had sex in - fuck in three years! The last time was - oh that guy from the gym. Oh no, wait; I forgot I dated that chic who was a coat check. I think the last time I saw her was a few days before Henry showed up. Oh," A thought dawned on her, "I wonder if she thinks I just ran off. Well, I guess I did kind of just run off. Anyway, my point being that it's been a really l _ong time_ , so I'm...sensitive. Plus I notice that you have been keeping your hands in appropriate places recently. Have you grown a conscience?"

She waited, her face under a pillow.

Two tugs to her ear and then the touch went back to work, massaging her skin.

Emma chuckled darkly, "I see."

The touch paused, clearly hearing something in her voice. Emma had heard it too and was lying perfectly still, waiting to see what it would do. She knew she shouldn't be passive aggressively encouraging it. She had no idea who this was. This could be - Leroy - or Archie - or fuck even Granny.

The only problem was the stronger of a bond she felt with her touch; the more she missed the moments of inappropriate petting.

"Where'd you go?" she finally asked the darkness in a small voice.

The hands appeared at her thighs, rubbing slow as they made their way up her body, over her hips and back onto her stomach. Emma chuckled and bit her lip, feeling the driven intent suddenly surrounding her. She arched her chest as the caress passed over her stomach and onto her already hardening nipples, groaning softly into her pillow.

It teased, pinching and flicking; sending shots of pleasure straight to Emma's core. The more she was touched, the more her longing for a body to press into grew.

Her legs danced under the blankets, unable to be still as girlish sighs and moans were pulled from the deepest parts of her.

"God damn it! Ahhh!" she groaned in baited frustration, throwing the pillow from her face and covering her eyes tightly with a rigid hand. Her hips rocked against nothing, her breath tight and quick in her throat. "You know - if you" moan "if you were to show up" sigh "on my doorstep right now, I uh, ahhh, I wouldn't turn you away. I think we're past that now."

The touch paused for a moment before firmly grasping a nipple and tickling her side, in just the right way. She couldn't help it. She had to. Emma fingers pushed down her stomach and tightly grasped her mound, pressing tightly against her sensitive bundle of nerves. Emma let out a sharp cry, her hips bucking into the air as she doubled over on herself. "Oh my god," she cried, "God damn it! Oh, this isn't fair!"

Feverishly the touch began to rub up and down her body, clutching and titillating. Emma shoved her underwear out of the way, plunging hungrily into her soaking folds, circling her clit, teasing her opening.

Her phone began to vibrate on the side table.

"Nooo!" She cried at it as though it had a choice about ringing. "Crap!" Releasing herself before she ever found release; she reached for her phone. She tried to swallow her sharp breath and pick it up, but the phantom touch held the phone on the table. "I have to! It's the station."

The touch released and Emma answered with a harsh, "Hello?"

It was a drunken fight at The Rabbit Hole. She groaned as she hung up a whispered, "Whyyyyyy?" falling from her lips but she could feel that the touch was not there, it had left her to her official business.

Resentfully she dressed and went to do her job.

xxx

 

It was very late when she returned from The Rabbit Hole, so she was surprised to find her mother up, sipping a glass of wine and reading a book.

"Uh, mom?"

"Hi sweetie."

"What are you doing up?"

"Oh, your father got called about Leroy after you left so I couldn't sleep."

"Awe." Emma couldn't help but to be touched, "You're waiting up for him? That's so - sweet."

A sliver of jealousy curled through her. She wanted someone to be there waiting for her!

As if it knew, the light breeze brought her touch, gently caressing the back of her neck. She smiled.

"What?" her mother asked, studying her face.

"Oh nothing." She went around to the couch and sat on the opposite end from her mother, "It's just nice-"

Apparently the touch had been waiting for her to continue where they had left off and was not having this whole sitting down and talking with her mother thing. The hand that had been whispering around the back of Emma's neck suddenly, aggressively planted a tight grip on Emma's right breast.

Emma shot back up, knocking into the coffee table, eyes wide as saucers.

"Emma!"

Eyes wild she tried to laugh it off, "Sorry! Uh, klutzy. I uh, it's um late and I should-"

She shot forward, falling over the little table as the touch pinched pointedly. "I uh, sorry, uh, gotta go." She stumbled and fell her way to her room, slamming the door on her mother's worried face.

"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

The aura of laughter surrounded her and with a long and lusty caress the touch disappeared for the night.

xxx

 

Sunday sucked.

She was exhausted and no amount of coffee seemed to keep her awake. She had a lazy day, playing video games and watching movies with Henry and, as soon as it was socially acceptable, fell into bed; doing her very best not to worry about the coming morning.

She dreamt again, for who knew how many times now, of the faceless person. It crawled up her body, rubbing itself against Emma's tender wanting skin, grinding itself against her and pulling a moan from deep within Emma's gut.

Her tank top and underwear disappeared as a shadowed hand trillled lightly over her skin, starting at her throat and disappearing just before the spot where Emma was begging to be touched.

A warm lips played at her hip as a hand crept under her ass, pulling her greedily against the phantom mouth.

Emma's hands gripped the sheets above her head, ready, thankful and wanting - when she woke.

"Nooo!" She cried the moment her eyes opened. Not another fucking dream about these god damned touches, fucking god da -

Her touch traced along the swell of her breast making Emma's breath catch tightly. "Oh! You're here."

Fingernails scraped tantalizing across her chest and up to her ear; two pulls.

Emma smiled, stretching long across the bed, "Hello."

The touch greeted her with a generous rub across her skin, cupping a breast and making Emma gasp. "Oh!"

Her hips came up automatically, as she sighed content. "Have I told you that I have dreams about you?"

One pull.

"Well, I do. Well not you exactly but this faceless person and we -" she faltered, her eyes popping open as she realized what she was saying.

Her touch paused, considering and then, in a furious charge took her hard. Emma yelped as her breasts were pinched, her skin teased, her touch suddenly everywhere. Emma's mind swirled as the room became charged, her body static as she was wrapped in warm, tantalizing layer of magic.

"Oh Jesus!" she cried, her back arching off the bed, falling back with a smack only to lift again. Fingers tickled her thighs, over her ass, up her stomach, over both nipples, tickling behind her ear, pulling at hair only to fall to the bottom and do it again in rolling waves. "Oh god!" Emma's hands clenched open and closed, open and closed; her toes pointed and relaxed.

This - this was new. She had no idea what was happening to her but this - her eyes rolled as she pulled a palm to her mouth, biting it to keep her silence. Her phantom softly pulled it away and Emma let out a loud rasping cry before she could bite down on her palm again.

Her body thrashed; all coherent thought gone except ooh fuck, what are you doing to me?

A phantom pressure appeared on Emma's hand, keeping her palm planted firmly in her mouth as a gentle stroke swiped down her folds as though her underwear were not there at all.

A high scream fell from behind her palm and the pressure built, shutting her up.

Another slow stroke send Emma's body bucking, begging, rolling and climbing.

"Please." She pulled her hand away from the touch, "Please!"

Slow circles began to swipe against her clit drawing panting cries of, "Yes. Oh god. Ye- shit. Oh god. Fuck."

Dazed wonder began to fill her as she realized, "Oh god, I'm - I'm going to - oh my go-"

Suddenly the touch disappeared as if an off switch had been struck.

Emma froze, her budding orgasm falling away instantly, "Noooooo! God damn it! Where did you go?" She waited for a response, but none came.

What the fuck had happened? It was after midnight; it wasn't as though someone had interrupted them on their side. What the _fuck_?

Her legs were shaking as she stood and went to the window, opening it and breathing in the cold air to clear her head.

She was frustrated. She was furious.

Angrily she chucked her pillow across the room and whisper screamed, " _Who the fuck are you_?"

No answer came.

She paced, trying to calm herself entirely, but it just wouldn't work. She wrapped an arm around her chest and chewed her thumbnail until nothing was left, her eyes constantly flicking to the picture frame hidden far at the back of her dresser.

If ever there was a time - it was now.

No, don't do it, Emma. Don't do it.

Still her eyes flicked.

But it would be so relieving! She needed it. If ever there was a time for it _this_ was it.

But don't do it, Emma. You worked so hard! It's been two fucking months! You've never gone a whole two months before!

She launched, ripping the frame from the dresser and flipping it around.

Satisfaction flashed through her instantly as she pulled the half empty soft pack of cigarettes out of it's tape confinement and shook a American Spirits out. Frantically she dug the hidden lighter out of her underwear drawer, celebrating in the small flame.

Calm filled her the moment she took her first drag and her eyebrows set.

 _God. Damn. It_.

xxx

She had finally stopped pacing by the time her alarm clock went off but she had not gone to bed.

Was magical sex different than normal sex because that shit...it was like a double shot of espresso and Viagra straight to the veins. She hadn't even tried. It had only been in the last hour that she had been able to sit still at all.

Her mother had attempted to be understanding of Emma's bad habit when she had first moved it but eventually, once she knew that she was indeed her mother she had given her an ultimatum that had resulted in no more smoking. Emma had been chronically off again, on again ever since. Mary-Margaret would be furious if she knew that her daughter had sat smoking in the window all night, so she showered quickly, to remove the scent and headed downstairs.

She pulled out the huge carton of eggs and stopped; how much should she cook? In the back of her mind she had known that this morning would be different - Hook and Neal probably - hopefully - would not come over and Regina - likely she wasn't coming either. Though the fact that Henry had not come home this weekend with explicit instructions from her about where he should be and when Monday night made Emma wonder.

She made a decision and got to cooking.

Perhaps she should be a bit more nervous than she was this morning with the possibility of facing Regina - and she knew she would have been if her body wasn't still trembling from her near orgasm the night before. So at least there was an upside.

She was just starting the coffee when she felt the light brush across the skin of her forearm.

Emma's jaw tensed and though her mother and father were shuffling around the room she answered in a low voice, "You - I - _we are not speaking_!"

The touch breezed over her shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"Uh huh. You better be sorry."

Two pulls.

Frustration shook at her apex and she jabbed the coffee pot into the maker harder than she meant to, "You know what? I have something to fucking say to you."

She blew past her mother and Henry, whose eyebrows shot up. She apologized quickly and disappeared into her room.

Once alone she rounded on nothing, "Are you here?"

One pull.

"I am so not in the mood for you to be fucking funny!"

"What did you fucking do to me last night?" She waited for a moment before she realized there was no way for that question could to be answered, "Okay fine, ugh! Do I still feel like my knees are going to give out because of - whatever magic you're using?"

Two pulls.

Emma meant to ask the next question sheepishly, but her agitation made it fall out bluntly, "And if I were to - um - take care of it myself would that stop?"

One pull.

"Really?" she whined.

One pull.

"Is there any chance that you're saying that because you don't want me to?"

There was a long pause and then - two pulls.

"God damn it!" Emma raged, not sure if she was teasing or serious when she growled. "Okay, you know what? I take it back. We're not fucking speaking." She felt a pull on her shoulder as she headed for the door. "No!" She swatted at the nothing holding her back, "I'm fucking pissed at you."

She ruffled Henry's hair perhaps a little harder than she meant as she headed back to the kitchen to continue cooking.

"Alright, food is ready!" she called a little while later, setting four plates on the table. Henry the boy tornado, flew across the house, licking his lips and nearly knocking over the chair in his rush, "Whoa kid! Calm down!"

He just grinned and downed half of his glass of juice.

Emma had just sat when there was a firm knock on the door. Her back straightened, curtly. It didn't matter which one of them it was, they would all be a surprise.

She rose and deliberately marched to the door, throwing it open without hesitation.

Regina stood, arm outstretched and holding a steaming cup.

Emma's eyes narrowed but instead of being hit by a wall of anger as she had expected she felt nerves. The deep brown eyes shown with a mix of emotions so complex it was dizzying.

Regina scowled a bit in response to Emma's as they stood, tension building fast. Slowly, after a moment or two Emma reached for the cup but Regina didn't let it go. They locked gazes and Emma understood. This was the closest to an apology she would ever be getting from Regina. Emma's eyebrow rose, amused and she gave the smallest of nods. Regina returned it with the warm smile Emma had grown used to and brushed past her. "Good morning everyone."

"Regina!" Mary-Margaret cried through a mouthful of food, "What are you doing here?"

Regina glared and spat, "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to speak with your mouth full, Snow White?"

Mary-Margaret flinched and looked back at her plate, wide-eyed and shunned.

Emma sniffed and wiped at her nose to cover the laughter that tried to escape. "Uh, I'm sorry. We don't have a plate for you. I kind of thought that you weren't coming."

Regina shrugged, "I already ate. Thank you though, Ms. Swan."

Emma nodded and gave her a tentative smile.

xxx

 

If Emma had been surprised to see Regina on her doorstep that morning then she was shocked to see her appear in the doorway of the station that afternoon with a brown paper bag.

"Regina!" Emma jumped out of her seat guilty. She had done everything she wasn't supposed to in the past thirty minutes. She had snuck out while her father was making his rounds for a cigarette and then had sat back down in her seat to work - only to fall into a deep sleep. "What are you doing here?"

"My, I'm receiving that question a lot today, aren't I?"

"I'm sorry. That was shitty."

Regina pulled up a chair took and seat across the desk, her long legs crossing habitually. Emma couldn't help but to notice that she wasn't wearing pantyhose today. She usually wore pantyhose with pencil skirts.

"You look like shit, Emma. What's wrong?"

Emma's eyes shot up from Regina's bare calves guiltily, "What? Nothing. I'm just uh, tired."

Regina's eyes narrowed as she began pulling food from the bag.

"Did you bring me lunch?" Emma gasped at the freshly made panini's and fruit appearing before her.

"Everyone needs to eat."

Emma picked one of the sandwiches up and sniffed appreciatively, "What is it?"

"Caprese panini."

Without hesitation, Emma unwrapped it and sank her teeth in, moaning. "Oh my god. This is so good." Her body spasmed, smarting and she stopped mid groan. Apparently the aftershocks of that damn - event- last night were triggered by anything somewhat related to sex noises.

"What's wrong?"

"What?"

"Your face."

Emma flushed, "Nothing!"

Regina set the sandwich down with a thump, "Alright, I've had it. There has been something going on with you for days and I will not stand for it anymore. What's. Wrong."

Emma opened her mouth to protest, but suddenly she didn't want to. Regina might have answers and her desire to know the identity of the person was beginning to outweigh her embarrassment.

"Okay fine but Regina, please. You can't tell anyone."

"Alright, Ms. Swan." Regina nodded tentatively.

Regina had barely finished her sentence when Emma let explode, "I have a touch."

"A what?" Regina asked flatly.

Emma scooted forward so she could whisper, "I don't know. It's like a fucking phantom. It started a while ago. I talked to Gold and he said that it sounds like a person here in Storybrooke is using magic to" she wiggled her fingers in the air, "touch me." Emma tried to smile but instead just laughed nervously.

"I see." Regina said slowly. "When exactly did this start?"

"Neverland."

"And yet Rumpelstiltskin thinks it's someone in Storybrooke?"

""Yes?"

"I see." she said again. "Emma, when you say it touches you what exactly do you mean?"

Emma's entire body flushed scarlet, "Um. Well."

"You don't mean - Emma!"

"I know, I know!" She cried, "It's weird, I know!"

Regina leaned forward, so Emma could almost feel her breath and smell her warmly rich perfume. Looking left to right as if someone might hear her she hissed, "Are you having sex with it?"

"No!" Emma cried shoving back into her chair disgruntled.

Regina's eyes popped wide with shock and she gasped, "But you _want_ to!"

"Well!" Emma whined, crossing her arms "I can't explain it, Regina. I know that it sounds crazy but whoever it is, fuck, they're amazing!"

""What?" Regina's face went slack.

"No really. I know, I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I've learned so much about them. I've never had anyone make me feel the way that they do and I haven't even fucking met them yet!"

"Yet? Do you uh, do you think you will?" Regina asked lightly.

"God I hope so." she groaned, "I might kill something if I don't. All of this -" She shuddered remembering the night before.

"Regina. Maybe you can tell me…"

"What?"

"Try not to judge me here, please but I have never had sex with this - person but we've gotten very close."

"Oh?" Regina stared at Emma transfixed; clearly this was a very interesting piece of gossip.

"Um, yeah. Last night it uh, fuck I don't know. It was like it wrapped me in some type of sexual force field or something, I don't know but fuck- I came this fucking close. I don't know, I've never felt anything like that before." She exhaled a long breath and ran her hands through her hair.

"Why um, why didn't you - you know?"

"It fucking stopped!" she shrieked. "I was like a fucking breath away from an orgasm I'm not even sure my body could fucking handle and it fucking stopped!"

"Really?" Regina gasped, a little breathlessly, bumping into her bottle of water and nearly spilling it across the desk.

"Yes! I have no idea why! Do you think that maybe it can't unless we're in person or something?"

Regina thought about for a while, "You said you don't know who it is?"

"No!" Emma howled.

"Well, my thought is maybe they didn't want to do something they were not sure you wanted. It's not as though you could have a conversation about it."

"No way. I was basically begging! Trust me, I wanted it - which still feels weird to say since, you now, I have no fucking clue who this is. Oh god, do I sound like a slut? Because I swear it's like I'm in a relationship with someone I can't see. I'm not just throwing myself at something, I mean, someone random who I can't see."

Regina grinned widely, clearly amused. "Have you thought about telling it that you want to?"

"No! Because what I would really like it is to have a fucking two way relationship with this person."

Regina hesitated, thinking, "But if you were never to meet the person-"

"Oh god, don't say that!" She rubbed her face vigorously. That just couldn't be an option for them. "But I guess if that's all I got - yeah I would take it. But I just really, really want to know who it is!" She took a deep breath, "Anyway what I wanted to know is -" She paused, noting just how red Regina's cheeks were, "Are you okay?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Um, of course. Why do you ask?"

"You're cheeks are really red. Are you hot?"

"Aren't you?"

Emma shrugged, "Anyway, I was up all fucking night. It was like I was super charged all night um, if you know what I mean. Is that - normal?"

Regina's lips had parted as she listened to Emma and she seemed to start a bit before answering, "Well, honestly, Emma I don't know. I think so."

"I uh," Emma wondered if Regina knew just how close she had leaned in, "I can't help but to feel like if I - you know-"

"What?"

" _You know_."

"What? Oh!"

"Yeah, if I _you know_ tonight then I might feel better. I mean fuck, my skin has been on fire all day!"

Regina's breath puffed against Emma's lips and the raging horny fire ripped through her. Emma had to sit back fast, baffled by her body's reaction.

Yes, Regina was a wickedly sexy woman and outside of Storybrooke she would have been _all over_ her but they had never been…like that.

Regina blinked, her dark eyes clearing, "Oh I don't know Emma. I mean, I have no real experience in this, but I feel as though when it comes to magic such as that - well, masturbation might only make the symptoms worse. Can you imagine, from what you're telling me, what it would be like if say the magic kept you from reaching - completion. Or if an org - completion, under those circumstances, were to, say double the effects. If I were you, next time your touch, as you say, comes to call I would make it abundantly clear that you would like-"

"To come. Preferably with it." Emma blurted out and then flushed.

Regina bit back a grin, "Right. What I would recommend -"

"Yeah?"

Regina leaned forward again, a breath away, "Beg."


	4. Chapter 4

The rest of the day was torture. Every time her jeans rubbed across her thigh she was doused in erotic fire. Every time she smelled perfume or a sweet cologne her pulse began to race. Flipping through the television before bed that evening she landed on a love scene in a movie that sent her reeling, grinding her legs together like a poorly trained dog.

There was only one thing she could think of to do before she had to give in. Stepping into her bathroom she flicked on the shower and spun the faucet to pure cold. She went to pull her shirt over her head only - she glanced over her shoulder quickly but, of course, no one was there.

"You're here, aren't you?"

There was no pull on her ear, but she felt the barest of touches shimmer across her stomach. Her lips pulled into a grin.

Deliberately Emma popped the button of her jeans. A smug smile traced her lips as she pulled the zipper down and waited.

Fingers climbed up her stomach.

"Can you help me?"

Two soft tugs on her earlobe.

She waited but nothing happened.

Understanding Emma smirked and slowly, coyly she pulled her shirt up over her head, shaking out her hair once free.

She pulled off her socks and grinning evilly she began to roll her hips, inching her pants down slowly, exposing her lack of panties.

The room began to fill, charging as it had the night before. Emma cocked an eyebrow, not at all surprised to feel phantom brushes up the backs of her thighs. They left a trail of fiery ice in their wake.

"I guess that's all you get." Emma breathed and stepping into the arctic water.

She bit back a scream and all sexual heat was washed away.

Until she got out.

She stepped out with her thoughts on Regina and their conversation that afternoon. Regina had been enjoying that talk thoroughly, hadn't she? Though she supposed Regina didn't get to participate in a lot of girl talk. God, she couldn't believe how honest she had been! What had that been about?

She toweled off, nude, headed her bedroom for a pair of pajamas.

The moment she reached her dresser she felt her touch grip her shoulders and pull.

Giggling Emma swore and she stumbled her way across the room and onto the bed. "Oh hello. Did you need something?"

Angel soft fingers brushed across her lips and Emma smiled. She loved it when that happened.

She knew what she was in for - another repeat of the night before. Would it disappear again? Did it have a choice? Perhaps the borrowed magic was not strong enough for - that.

She waited to be ravaged and was surprised when instead the fingers whispered sweetly down her cheek. Reflexively Emma leaned into the caress and felt a moment of sadness when there was nothing to meet.

Tenderly fingertips covered her eyes and Emma obeyed, resting bare under the watchful gaze of this anonymous stranger.

She sighed deeply and just felt the steady rubs and brushes across her skin, through her hair, over her lips. It took its time carefully giving each and every part of her body individual attention from her fingertips to her toes and slowly, richly Emma felt her body began to heat, responding with gentle desire.

As she felt, she began to notice a few things she never had before. An ethereal scent, floral yet divinely earthy and erogenous. The vague hand like shapes she had felt since the beginning were sharper, suddenly thin fingers and nails, perhaps even a ring. And there was an aura - something she couldn't quite place but it stirred her to her core.

Bit by bit and little by little Emma's lips began to part as the sensual caresses did their work, her breath quickened as the hands moved agonizingly slow.

She began to rock, her core quickening as she whispered silent pleas that were met with soft brushes against her cheeks and lips.

She wanted to be kissed and oh, she wanted to kiss. She wanted to feel the heat of another body.

"Please come to me." Emma's eyes opened and she mourned the sight of her lonely, empty bed. "Please."

The thin fingers delicately brushed over her eyes again, sliding down her face only to stretch into her hair while a small thumb drew tender patterns into her cheek.

Her eyes closed as the other hand slid gingerly down her stomach, curled through the hair there and glided into her sodden folds.

There was a gentle stroke, once, twice and then Emma purred as she was entered.

Emma's exalted cry fell lightly from her lips, focusing only on the thumb grazing her cheek and the slowly oscillating finger inside of her. Each swirl took Emma further from herself, pulling larger cries of pleasure out of her until she was rocking with her touch, unable to tell which way was heaven and which way was earth.

The second hand slid down her body and a small pressure was added to her pulsing bundle of nerves.

"Oh god!" she cried, her hands tangling in her hair as though holding some part of herself would keep her from floating away, untethered. "Oh please."

She felt the ghostly fingers inside of her swirl again and then twist, pulling back along the top of her walls.

She bit her lip hard to keep all sound inside of herself as her body bent.

Deliberately the fingers swirled and pulled again. Emma's toes began to curl back on themselves. "Oh god," she strained to whisper into the empty room, "You're so good at this, how are you so good at this?"

The fingers swirled and pulled, a light hand playing with her nipples again.

"Oh fuck" she - wait… her eyes popped open. She struggled as though slowly breaking her way through the fog of near climax, "Wait!" She cried, sitting up.

The gentle fingers caressed her shoulders, her cheek, but Emma didn't notice.

She knew this. She knew this feeling. She knew this way of making love… and fingers - this was fingers, not a - the aura, the feeling within the aura fell into place.

She gasped, hotly.

Femininity. This was a _woman._

The touch hovered lightly over her body, softly trying to encourage her back down, but she ignored it.

This was a fucking woman and - in Storybrooke there was only one -

_"No!"_

The touch gently massaged her ear, pushing ever so slightly against her shoulder.

It fucking couldn't be.

It started in Neverland….

No.

It has to be -

"Regina!"

The touch instantly vanished from her skin.

 

* * *

 

What the fuck was she supposed to do now. Was she right? Her touch had disappeared completely the moment she had said her name. She had felt it - her - it - go. Did that mean - Regina...fuck...was it really _Regina_?

She blew a cloud of cigarette smoke out of her window and then let her head fall against the glass with a thunk.

How did she feel about this? She wasn't sure she knew.

Regina was...sexy. Damn, Regina was sexy but… wow...

There was so much more to Regina than her beauty; this was something Emma had learned over these past weeks, phantom touch aside. She was kind. There was a time when Emma would have never imaged saying that but now she knew it was true. She was kind – and she was warm. She was loving and sweet. She was wise and admirably strong. But if Emma's touch, her oh so beloved touch was Regina then she was also silly, playful and fun. She was coy in all of the best ways as well as gentle and a wicked lover.

Could she be satisfied if her secret phantom touch was Regina?

She knew she could.

Hell, she would be _lucky_ if Regina was her touch instead of Jefferson or someone unavailable like Belle French.

Only, what if it had all been a coincidence? Crazier things had happened. Crazier things had happened to _her_ , especially as of late.

She thought of Regina's flushed face as Emma described her debate over masturbation and Emma had to take another drag to stop her head from spinning.

No. There could be no debate. Her touch was…Regina. She hadn't been paying enough attention at the time to realize the look of an aroused woman during that chat, the thought that it could be Regina far from her mind. Yet now, when she looked back…

_Regina._

Excitement bubbled through her and a lazy smile crept across her lips.

_Regina._

_Regina._

Softly she began to hum.

_Regina!_

Her shoulders began to pick up the rhythm of the song after a moment, swaying in time as she sang under her breath _can't get enough of your love baaabe._

Her leg began to tap until hips shaking she stood and grabbed her phone.

Ear buds in the deep baritone voice of Barry White filled the room and Emma laughed, stretching into the joy that poured through every inch of her.

Her hip began to pop slowly rhythmically, her head bobbing until there, in the middle of the night clad in her underwear Emma Swan began to dance.

The music filled her senses as she bounced and rocked, arms side to side and over her head.

She danced around the room, her phone her microphone as she mouthed the words; fumbling the parts she did not know and not caring in the least. Her mirror became her audience as she popped, bouncing and spinning, asking her imaginary fans 'how can I explain - all the things I feel'?

Barry White was followed by Donna Summers singing oooooh, love to love ya babay and then finally, tired she flopped onto her bed lip-syncing and gesturing dramatically into the air as Billy Paul sang about his legendary affair with Mrs. Jones.

She let the headphones fall out of her ears finally and lit another cigarette, scurrying back to the window.

_Holy shit, Regina._

But why hadn't Regina just told her?

A scowl crept in, dampening her inner sun.

She could have just told her.

Yeah! As a matter of fact why didn't she just walk right the hell up to her and say Emma notice me.

They were friends. What the hell? Did their friendship mean so little to her?

Oh.

She remembered.

_"It's because you think I won't want to be with you."_

How could Regina have been so stupid? What, because she was the Evil Queen? Because they had fought? Regina wouldn't be the first person Emma had made love to who had, at one time, punched her in the face…or vise versa.

Regina had no good goddamn reason to keep this from her. She had no reason to string her along like this for so long! She had been given ample time to fucking tell her!

She finished her cigarette in deep contemplation.

She brushed her teeth and climbed into bed.

She had a few things to say to Madam Mayor.

 

* * *

She waited and waited the next morning for Regina to make her appearance. She cooked breakfast like usual, her foot tapping impatiently and waited for the no-show until the very last minute to walk with Henry.

Her lack of an appearance only solidified Emma's irritation.

What was she going to pretend like it hadn't happened last night?

Oh, of course. Emma realized as she pulled on her jacket that yes, that was exactly what Regina was going to do. She was going to hold out until the very end.

Well. She knew exactly how to fucking play it if that was the case.

"Do you think she's sick?" Henry asked, his hands dug deep in his pockets as he walked, a tiny mirror of his blonde mother.

"No kid, I don't think so. She probably just had something she needed to do, you know? Adult stuff."

He frowned as though the thought of adult stuff was a vile and disgusting concept, "I guess."

Emma's eyes swept the area, peeled for the perfectly quaffed hair or the black Mercedes, but both were suspiciously absent from the morning streets of Storybrooke.

"Do you think she'll pick me up?"

"Do you want her to?"

He shrugged and grinned his toothy grin, "Sure."

"Okay. Why don't you call her at lunch? I'm sure she would love to pick you up. Maybe you guys can go to Granny's or something."

"Maybe you could come too?"

"Sure kid." She teasingly went to play with his hair but he quickly dodged away, smoothing it back down.

"Maaa!"

"Oops. Sorry dude. I'll uh see you later." She gave him a playfully covert nod and started off down the street.

She lit a cigarette on the way to calm her nerves but marched, with purpose, straight to Mifflin Street.

Regina had better be there or so help her she would go through every building in Storybrooke until she found her.

There would be no hiding from her today.

The iconic black Benz was vacant from the driveway but Emma tried anyway.

"Regina?" She knocked at the door politely but there was no sound. "Regina!" She banged harder. "Hey! Open the door!"

"I don't think she's in, Sheriff!" Regina's petite and elderly neighbor called from his front lawn. "I saw her leave early this morning. Is everything alright?"

Hands in her jacket pockets she took a guilty step away from the door, "Oh, yes sir! Just trying to track her down, that's all. Sorry to disturb you."

He chuckled, "Oh I'm not disturbed. It wouldn't be a Tuesday morning if someone wasn't banging on 108, hollering and demanding something. She was the queen, you know. I'm just happy when there is no angry mob coming up the road. Mobs trample the flower gardens."

Emma nodded, biting her lip to keep a straight face.

"Well." He nodded and waved, "I hope you find her."

She stomped to Granny's, irritation mounting but Granny and Ruby had not seen her that morning. Neither had Gold, Belle, her father at the station or anyone at Town Hall.

Bent out of shape she started down Main at a slow amble, cantankerous amusement bubbling in her. All of this and she couldn't even fucking find her? _Where the hell was she?_ She had hidden herself well.

108 Mifflin, Granny's, Mr. Gold's, the Library, the station, Town Hall…this was fucking Storybrooke, where else was there? The hospital? Maybe she should check, just in case.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Of course.

Flipping around she started off toward the cemetery.

That had been stupid of her to forget.

There was no sign of the Benz when she got there but then again, Emma had no idea where the parking lot for this place was. Walking through the fall leaves she did her best to stifle her crunching. Regina was a flight risk she didn't want to tip her off. She could be gone in a whiff of smoke before Emma even knew for sure that she had been there.

She pushed through the heavy doors as silent as a mouse and sure enough the coffin was pushed aside and the staircase leading into Regina's vault was visible.

Descending she saw Regina, sitting with her back to the door. Across the room the large mirror caught the reflection of her beautiful distressed face as Regina sat, twiddling her thumbs lost in thought.

"Regina?"

The huge brown eyes shot up into the glass, deer in headlights before she scoffed, "Crap."

"Uh wow. Gee thanks. It's um, nice to see you too."

Regina stood, immediately beginning to tidy herself and then the shelves around her, "What are you doing here, Ms. Swan? Is everything alright? Did Henry get to school on time? I assume you could handle that?"

Emma nodded, so that was how they were going to play it. She was slightly proud of herself that she had predicted Regina's next moves all from her not showing up for breakfast. "Yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. You just didn't come over this morning so I was worried."

"Well I'm fine, thank you. I just had some business to take care of."

"Sure." Emma watched her work, snapping her fingers lightly and biding her time, "Oh, I do have an interesting piece of news. I thought I would share since, you know, we're friends and all of that."

"And what's that?" Regina asked, dusting a small glass bottle intently.

"Remember how I told you about my touch yesterday? That like, super hot, super awesome thing that I said I was basically in a relationship with?"

"Mmhmm." She quickly picked up another bottle and began to rub it furiously with the small rag she had conjured.

"Well, I took your advice."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see I could tell it was with me last night when I was going to take a shower so I did a little strip tease for it."

Regina's cheeks went pink, but she said nothing.

"Yeah, I think it worked because, whew."

Regina coughed stiffly.

"I don't think I have ever felt fingers like that."

"Oh?" Regina's voice was a failed attempt at her usual grandeur.

"Yeah. And oh, I begged." Emma scoffed, inching closer to her; about ready to be through with this game. "She wasn't even inside me very long before I came."

Regina's hands twitched and the bottle she was holding slipped through her fingers. Emma caught it nimbly and handed it back to her.

"Thank you." Regina nodded curtly. "So it uh, you finally came then?"

"Well," Emma shrugged clicking her tongue, "not quite but another minute and I would have."

"Oh. Well. Congratulations Ms. Sw-"

Emma seized Regina's arm, pulling her to her and grasping her chin.

"What the hell are you doing? Get your hands off of me!"

But Emma held her face tight, waiting until those deep brown eyes would meet hers. Finally, falteringly and after a long moment she did.

"What are-"

"Shhh!" Holding the woman tightly she searched through her eyes until, there! There it was, hidden between the grief and the joy was the tiny telling twinge of guilt. Finally she had found her proof!

At once Emma's mind and heart reacted in two very conflicting ways. Her heart pulled her hand back so their lips went racing toward the others.

Regina let out a small surprised cry but at the last second, their lips a breath away her mind screamed, 'Don't you dare give in, Emma! What do you want? The truth! When do you want it? Now!'

Regina's lips had parted, her eyes singing of vulnerable fear as they flicked constantly up to Emma's then down to her lips and back. Her breath had picked up slightly as she clutched the hand that held her. As much as Emma wanted to bridge that last tiny bit of distance she forced herself to remain still, "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Tell you what, exactly?" the cold voice of the Mayor asked.

Emma scoffed and pushed her away, "Don't fuck with me, Regina. I know it's you. No one else would have bailed so quickly at the mention of _your_ name."

"Oh I don't know, Ms. Swan. My name used to inspire much fear."

"Regina…" Emma didn't bother to say anything else.

Regina's inner debate seemed to last forever until finally the words exploded from her, "And what was I supposed to say, Ms. Swan?"

"Oh cut the 'Ms. Swan' bullshit, Regina. You have seen me naked. You have literally been inside my body. It was Emma in Neverland before all of this and it's Emma now!"

Regina's face enflamed and she stumbled, stunned by Emma's blunt words. "Fine."

"Great. Awesome." Emma bit back, dryly.

They stood in tight silence, Emma pacing and Regina's eyes tracing her steps.

"What was the point, Regina?" Emma finally bellowed, her voice jumping off the walls and leaping back at them.

Regina pulled herself down onto the seat, her legs crossing.

Pantyhose. Today she is wearing pantyhose.

God Emma _loved_  pantyhose.

While Regina contemplated what to say Emma watched as the tender vulnerability seeped away quickly, back to her guise. Her arms stretched out over the stones behind her, her eyes provocative, wild, and challenging, "I had been, let's say biding my time for a while before those two cretins took our son. The time" she considered "just never seemed right. Then we were on that damned island together and I was forced to watch as I-Have-Daddy-Issues and Hedwig-The-Angry-Pirate threw their hats in the ring for your attentions. So I thought I would too." She shrugged, "In my own way. It was meant innocently enough at first but then it got – _interesting_."

"Umhmm." This wasn't making Emma feel any better about the fact that she had spent weeks seeing Regina daily and the woman had never told her. She had been the only person in which Emma had confided! "Right. And that's it?"

Regina glared found Emma's and she wondered if Regina knew that she was seeing through her show. She could see the fear and worry beaten away behind Regina's gaze. "What would you like me to say, Ms. Swan?"

Emma grunted and then laughed dryly, kicking the bottom step light. She had to play this right. What would force Regina out of her shell? She had seen her facade crumble when she had grabbed her but she didn't think that would work again. So - call her on it. She would just call her on it and see. No one ever called Regina on her shit. "That" Emma pointed her finger in a general figure eight at Regina, "is bullshit. All of this that you're doing right now- bullshit. And I don't have time for it. Nope. This performance you're doing right now – not going to fly. I don't want your mask, Regina. I want you."

Regina's eyebrows pulled together but she said nothing.

"Okay. Tell you what, Regina. When you want to try real, why don't you come find me? If you're lucky I won't make you beg."

She turned and quickly ascended the stairs, her heart hammering in her chest.

Emma broke into the cold fall air and started through the leaves.

She knew the other side of Regina, the warm flesh under the cold shell and with a grin; she knew she would see it again any time now.

She would just wait and –

The wind picked up, blowing Emma's hair across her face and in it she felt three distinct fingers grip and pinch the underside of her ass.

She jumped a mile into the air, expecting anything but that.

Flailing her arms in exasperation she yelled into the empty sky, " _god damn it, woman_!"

From across the cemetery behind her she heard a throaty chuckle.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now on to the second half and Regina's POV. I would strongly recommend if you haven't read the back chapters in a while that you do! I'm going to operate as though everyone remembers the major scenes to save some time!

She had a stick poking her in the ass…she had a stick making it’s sharp way to a very personal area and she was fairly certain that if she was not very careful she would contract some sort of strange magical poison ivy in a place...well...that you never wanted to rub with calamine lotion.

Had she really sunk this low? Had The _Evil Queen_ really sunk low enough to be crouching - like she was - in a fucking bush - all so she could do - well whatever the hell she was doing. Courting? Soothing? Fucking? She didn’t know but whatever it was she was doing it to Emma Swan - the fucking Savior, for Christ sake - while squatting in a bush - with a stick shoved up her ass.

But what else could she do?

Emma Swan was _crying._ Was she simply supposed to pretend that wasn’t happening? Also, how was it that she was the only one to notice this? These two men fought over Emma openly and her parents were mere feet away and yet, she was alone in her observations.

Of course, Regina knew why Emma Swan – The Savior – this earnest and uncomfortably sweet woman - was crying.

Emma had tried so hard today. When they had agreed to corner the hunting boy Regina had known that their silly little plan would not work. Of course it wouldn't, chocolate wasn’t enough to sway the boy’s devotion to Pan. She had debated arguing but arguing with the Charming’s was…aggravating and rarely fruitful so she had given in; knowing they would learn soon enough. They had hidden until the boy was in their net and then, in her sweetest voice Regina had offered him a bar of Henry’s favorite chocolate.

She had almost missed her chocolate cue, struggling a bit to focus. Emma was so...distracting when she was speaking passionately and while Regina wasn’t sure that Emma’s words were completely true, she had done her best to stand there; solidly supporting her not-exactly-friend.

For a moment she had thought that perhaps they had been able to win him over after all until, very much as Regina had known it would go, the boy had chucked the candy - wasting it - and wasting their time with his inane insistence that Henry had become dark - vicious.

There had been no other way.

That didn’t mean it had been easy for Emma, especially with Snow behaving as though she was going to do something _dreadful_.

She wasn’t going to _kill_ the boy and, as everyone could see, her plan had worked.

They had spoken to Henry.

He knew they were there.

But now… Emma Swan was crying.

 

She readjusted, trying not to growl when the stick shifted and dug deeply into her thigh, trying to draw blood.

This - this was very unbecoming of a Queen.

But then there was another sniff from the small ball Emma had rolled herself into and Regina’s annoyance was forgotten.

She longed to simply step out from her hiding spot and go to her - but she couldn’t. Regina was the last person Emma would want right now. So instead she squinted through the twilight and carefully flexed her fingers.

She sighed the moment she felt Emma’s trembling back under her fingertips.

Emma jumped a little, making Regina cover her mouth to hold back her laughter.

“Oh, hey.” Emma mumbled so low that Regina could barely hear her. She let Regina’s soft touch roll her onto her back and chuckled slightly when Regina wiped away a tear. “I guess if you were real then I would be embarrassed to be caught like this but since - you know - I’m crazy or maybe you’re, I don’t know...a ghost...or The Easter Bunny or something I guess I don’t need to be.”

Regina softly squeezed her hand and then went to work on massaging her temples. She liked this new development; Emma talking to her – to the touch.

“Hmmm, that feels nice. I’ve had this weird headache all day. Is it possible for someone else’s magic to give you a headache? I think maybe Regina’s magic is too strong for me. Or maybe I’m allergic. Can I be allergic to magic?”

Regina’s lips twitched, if only Emma knew just how much she was _not_ allergic to her magic.

Emma fell silent for a bit and then sighed deeply. Regina’s fingers paused and Emma seemed to understand.

“I’m just – worried. I’m so worried about Henry. What if he thinks we don’t love him anymore? Also, that kid. Will he be alright? I didn’t have the guts to ask Regina what she did with his heart.”

Regina frowned. What would she have done with it?

“I guess she probably will give it back to him or I don’t know – God if you were to listen to my mom – Mary – Sn – Mo – ugh, whatever; if you were to listen to her than you would think Regina was going to fucking eat it.” Emma chuckled. “I don’t think we need to worry about that, though.”

There was a surprising confidence in Emma’s voice that gave her pause. How was it that Emma could sound so confident about the former Evil Queen?

Regina lost herself in this thought for a bit as her fingers lightly played over Emma’s skin. Where did the confidence come from? Why was it that she always felt as though Emma knew her – understood her in a way that no one else did. It was true; she _had_ planned on returning the heart. She was – trying to be better…for Henry.

A giggling gasp caught her attention. Looking up she saw Emma twitching a little, her face pink as though trying hard to bite some sound back.

A smile kissed Regina’s lips. She had been tickling Emma without realizing it, her fingers hovering a breath from her armpit. She deliberately tickled again and Emma squealed a surprisingly feminine giggle. Regina liked the sound of it…very much.

“Careful, buddy.” Emma warned, “You’re close to dangerous waters and I still haven’t decided if I’m okay with what -,” she cleared her throat, “what happened last time.”

Regina froze in place a pool of heat splashing between her legs. Last time? Last time she had, well she had gone too far – just like the time before that – and the time before that - when she had _touched_ Emma. She wasn’t proud of it or her lack of self-restraint but – the wanton pressure grew between her thighs, did that mean that she was close to an area that Emma found particularly arousing?

Her mouth turned hot, wet and tingly.

It didn’t matter if she was.

She had said never again.

This wasn’t fair to Emma.

Emma should know who she was.

Her fingers tickled across the spot and Emma giggled.

No. She wasn’t going to do it. This was ridiculous. She didn’t need to know exactly where that sensitive spot near her armpit was.

Her fingers tickled up and over her shoulder and Emma sighed, enjoying the massage again.

If she wanted to touch Emma again then she needed to step out of this sweaty and uncomfortable bush and present herself.

She would not stoop to hiding here, all but making love to this wildly sexy woman, in secret.

Her fingers tickled down, grazing the side of Emma’s breast and ribs. Emma hiccupped and sucked in a quick, tight breath.

Instantly Regina’s body tightened, her heart slamming into her suddenly sensitive bundle of nerves and she let out a small gasp. _Oh god._ Why had she let herself do it?

Emma was chuckling, making some apology but Regina wasn’t listening, busy rearranging herself so her pants didn’t press, quite so insistently into her.

She would stop now. It wouldn’t be like last time – or the other times.

Oh, how she wished that she could reverse the spell. If she reversed it then she would feel every touch, every pleasure that Emma felt when her secret fingers traced her body but –

NO!

She was not going to do this again.

“…I think I kind of liked it.”

Regina’s attention was whipped back to her almost lover. What had she been saying? Something about the last time that she had lost control and had released her _very_ secret affection and attraction on the blonde.

Had she just said she liked it?

Emma must have felt her surprise because she suddenly grew awkward, “I don’t know if I should like it, then again crazy people probably often enjoy being crazy, right? I just – I just meant, it felt…good.”

Oh god. Regina felt her want rising. Carefully, she tickled down Emma’s side.

Emma jerked a bit and covered her face to hide, what Regina knew was sure to be, an adorable blush. “Uh, yeah. Like that.”

Regina’s concentration had narrowed to a point. She flexed her hand and let her eyes close, feeling the hot skin against her fingertips. Slowly, taking her time for both Emma’s pleasure as well as her her own, she slid her fingers up over Emma’s small breast and circled the quickly hardening nipple.

Emma gasped.

Regina’s eyes closed in concentration. She wanted to flatten her palm. If she did she would be able to cup Emma’s breast there, to feel her nipple pebble against her skin but she couldn’t. Surely if she did Emma would know –

Though perhaps she knew already.

She raked her fingers across Emma’s tight belly and enjoyed the moan that followed.

Oh boy.

“Oooh,” Emma sighed and stretched, her body going long and tantalizing. “I forgot how good it could be to be touched after a long and stressful day.”

Regina’s breath caught.

“Even if you’re totally in my head like some, I don’t know, placebo sexual activity, it’s…gooood.”

Oh boy. Regina was in trouble.

How was she supposed to stop doing this when Emma said things like that?

 

XXX

 

 That fucking flying boat had made her seasick…or was it airsick? Or perhaps it was Storybrooke sick.

She didn’t know but watching her son and the beautiful blonde step off the boat grinning; Regina was feeling distinctly nauseous. The town was cheering for the heroes and all Regina could think was ‘it’s over now’. She had built a relationship of sorts with Emma Swan, unconventional and secret but something that was only for them. But watching the people who should have been her family getting pulled into a hug by the verbosely annoying Granny, Regina knew it was over and she had failed.

Yes, perhaps she had pulled Emma’s attention away from the two idiots who fought for her but she hadn’t pulled her attention to _her_. She hadn’t made her feelings known…and she was out of time.

And now…

Now Regina was invisible again.

She watched the crowd as the Charming’s got off the boat. She watched the crowd as their eyes slipped from Snow and David, over her and onto Rumpelstiltskin as though she wasn’t even there.

She grimaced and shoved her hands into the pockets of her long coat.

She never thought she would see the day when the evil and conniving Rumple would have someone to greet him with a warm hug and a kiss of welcome while she stood, alone and off to the side, forgotten. Jesus, if _he_ could get a happy ending then shouldn’t she?

One of the dwarfs – Winky or Sunshine or something – glanced at her uncomfortably and out of habit skittered a few feet away. In her former glory days she would have growled, trying to see if she could get him to jump away a bit further but now she just looked away, hoping that she could avoid his eyes.

The crowd around her embraced, happy tears flowing and she leaned a bit heavier against the ship. Could she leave? Was there any reason to stay? A long shower sounded wonderful.

She glanced at her son and his – other mother – chatting, animatedly.

No. No reason to stay.

Yet she had to stay, else draw more attention to herself. So she stood, studying her fingers and just waiting for this to be over.

How had this become her life?

“And we owe a lot of it to her. Regina helped save us all.”

She looked up, surprised and found every eye turned on her, some shocked, some happy but most wary.

Her heart picked up pace as the set of peaceful green eyes that she was already missing, fell on her. Emma smiled at her, a smile that felt like it was only for her and Regina wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or if she wanted to beam back.

Then Emma was at her side and Regina felt like she could breathe again.

Oh god, how was she going to go back to life in Storybrooke where she only saw Emma as the sheriff or as Henry’s other mother?

She wasn’t sure it was possible to go back to that, go back to a life without the touches. It was the only way that Regina could be near Emma – and she _needed_ to be near Emma since she was, after all, deeply, irrevocably, torturously - in love with her.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This might not be edited too well. I was exhausted tonight!

Oh, how Regina enjoyed those breathy and light sounds, the gentle moans and sighs of a woman in deep pleasure. She loved the way a woman’s breath caught when she gasped, the way her lips would part. But above all of that Regina loved being the cause of it all.

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, bit and forced her body to remain still when what it wanted to do was a dance, she wanted to gyrate and rub on anything near her like a cat in heat.

She flexed again, tracing Emma’s nipple. Her eyebrow popped of its own accord. She was always careful, so very careful but Emma was asleep now. Would it be wrong to – she flexed her hand fully, taking Emma’s breast fully into her palm, teasing the nipple.

They both groaned.

 

She had come in to yell at the blonde, not because she felt as though she needed to – Baelfire would not succeed in allowing their son to play football; no need to worry about that. No, she had come in because it was an excuse to see her. As pathetic and silly as that was, it was the romantic equivalent of borrowing a cup of sugar late in the evening from the sexy neighbor woman.

She wasn’t proud – but there it was.

 

Just to add to the ‘Regina is pathetic’ column, her heart had skipped when she found the woman limp across her desk, snoring lightly. It had actually skipped a beat, feeling as though she had tripped in public or missed a step of the stairs in the dark.

God damn it, but the blonde was cute. How the hell had Snow White and Prince Charming made something this god damn desirable?

And sexy.

How was it possible for someone to be so cute while being so goddamned wildly sexy?

 

Fingers tingling with magic…she carefully tiptoed backward, across the room. She wanted to watch this. She would place herself in front of the small Mr. Coffee so she could turn away if her touch woke the woman.

Then she went to work.

 

She really hadn’t meant to start this again and her lack of willpower bordered on embarrassing…well she was embarrassed when she wasn’t doing it, that is; in the moment her heart beat hard, her mouth went dry and she could feel every breath deep in her core. It was like candy; sweet liquor centered chocolate and all humiliation, all trepidation flew out the window as she thought about Emma feeling her phantom fingers.

 

She wished she could say that it was something big that had finally broken her willpower – a deep confession from Emma or perhaps a sign from the gods but – it hadn’t been.

It had all been because of Regina–The Stalker.

She had arrived early to the office one morning unable to sleep – again. She had tossed and turned for hours before, with a grunt, she rose. Why not get some of the backlogged work done? If she was going to be up, then she might as well be productive.

Then she had spotted a glimpse of yellow as she drove and that was it, a junkie set off and ready for another hit.

It had simply been a sign for the local bakery but that didn’t matter; her thoughts were on Emma now.

What was she doing?

Was she already out for the day?

Would she still be in her pajamas, hair mussed from sleep?

She sat with a hard thump behind her desk and decided not to think about it. Distraction was the key.

Only, now that she was there, work was the last thing she wanted to do.

She had tidied her already spotless office.

She had organized her already meticulous desk and shelves.

She had sat in the window, looking out at the town and slowly enjoyed a second cup of coffee.

None of it worked. Every few minutes her eyes flicked to the wall – to the hanging mirror.

All you need is a glimpse, she reasoned with herself. There is no harm in that.

 

She hadn’t seen The Savior in a while – a few days – she didn’t know, it all felt too long.

_You were the Queen. You were the mayor. You are a mother. How is it you have such abhorrent self-control? You are turning into a regular Snow White, Regina. Yes, I said it. You are taking a page out of little secret snitching Snow’s book. Shut up and do your work._

 

She threw her coat over the mirror.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

She sat in her chair with triumph.

There. That wasn’t so –

The coat fell to the floor in a mocking heap.

“Oh, you are just useless.” She snapped at the jacket, magicking it back onto the coat rack and grumbling.

 

She had debated with herself for the better part of an hour, walking to the mirror only to stomp away again.

Finally she gave in and with a whoosh there was Emma, standing in line at Granny’s and chatting happily with Archie.

Regina sighed.

She looked well…she looked well…in those jeans…

Regina rolled her eyes at herself.

She picked up her coffee and settled in front of the portal, simply watching Emma’s face as she went about her morning routine.

 

She had thought this would help but it didn’t.

At first Emma was all smiles, laughing her infectious laugh and alone in her office, Regina could give in to the large smile Emma’s laugh always brought to her lips.

Emma giggled with Henry and his schoolteacher. She said a cheery hello to Blue and then, hands in her pockets she skipped off toward the station.

Then Emma’s face began to change.

The moment she had stepped out of the scrutiny of the townsfolk, the moment she was alone, the smile faded from Emma’s lips and her face began to darken; her eyes growing unhappy, blank and – lost.

Regina had watched this tensely, her coffee forgotten in her hands, before she finally decided that the look could only be one thing. The Savior was lonely…and something else… Every time her phone went off Emma rolled her eyes and sighed - and Regina would feel a snarl in her gut.

She knew whom the texts were from. _Why_ hadn’t she just worked some fireball magic and caught them, the two idiot men openly fighting for Emma, in a forest fire before they all returned? That would have been a clean disposal.

She shifted, awkwardly as if the walls had heard the thought.

_Because that’s not who you are anymore, Regina, remember? You’re – good – trying to be good – you’re - working on it…_

 

The longer she watched the harder her control was to reign in. She wanted to touch her. She wanted her to look less – unhappy.

She was going to do it.

_No._

Yes.

_No!_

But oh, she wanted to.

Okay, just once. Just a quick hello. Just a small tickle, something to make that smile genuine.

_No!_

But she missed her.

_Then call her, you fool. Tell her._

Okay, that was just crazy talk. Just once.

_Don’t do it. It won’t be just once._

Before she could stop herself she had flexed her fingers, softly tracing a quick hello up Emma’s spine and Emma – she had _smiled_. She had smiled like she had just seen a long lost friend. It was a small secret smile as she walked down Main.

Then of course had come the shock and to Regina’s amusement, Emma had almost punched Jefferson in the face!

Well. That wouldn’t have been the worst thing ever.

 

It had been a slippery slope after that until here she was, standing over a sleeping Emma and delighting in the gentle sounds that Emma made as she carefully teased her nipples, her spine, her cheek, her arms.

 

A spasm of joyous pressure built in her gut as she watched the sleeping woman moan and shift, her hand moving and - and she clutched the apex of her jeans!

Regina’s mind rolled.

God, she wanted to be that hand. That hand was so lucky.

While she often played with Emma’s body – she had never gone that far. She had never touched anywhere that could be covered by a bikini…bottom…

But she wanted to. Ugh, she wanted to.

She wanted to magic Emma’s pants away and drop to her knees, here and now, to taste her; to take her into her mouth and make those moans real; make those moans _hers_.

She wanted to – her hand clamped down with her sudden spasm of passion and Emma moaned deeply, loudly, startling herself awake.

With a gasp Regina turned away, heart pounding, caught. _Oh no, no, no, no, no. Regina you imbecile. You’ve gotten yourself caught. You fool!_

 

Only Emma didn’t sit up.

Regina eyed her, hands on the coffee pot and cup, ready to pick them as though she hadn’t been doing anything at all.

Emma took a deep breath and moaned again.

Amusement began to flutter in.

What was she doing?

Her eyebrow popped and her arms crossed.

She waited for Emma to stand but she didn’t. She groaned a few more times, in annoyance? And was she…yes, she was playing with her breast! She was touching herself.

Hot, fire like desire ripped through her and she felt every part of her throb.

 _Emma Swan was touching herself._ She was awake and she was  _touching herself._

Oh god, what should she do? Should she make her presence known? Should she, uh, offer her a hand? Would that be…rude? Her lips parted to say – something, she didn’t know what.

Oh, Regina wanted to touch herself as she watched Emma’s hand lightly squeeze her breast. How long was she going to do this? Anyone could walk in!

Biting her lip to hold back a chuckle she teasingly slid a quick invisible finger down Emma’s spine, a quick tickle.

Emma yelped and sat up straight, then nearly fell out of her chair.

Regina cleared her throat, schooling her face empty and picked up the pot of lukewarm coffee, “You have a Cheeto stuck to your face.”

Emma’s look was absolutely priceless. Her eyes had grown huge, no doubt worried about what she had just been doing; her lips had popped open and had yet to close.

Regina imagined crawling across the desk and slowly slipping her tongue between them. The thought sent hot and cold currents over her skin. She swallowed thickly and she stared blankly, “You make a lot of very strange noises in your sleep.”

Emma paled and Regina had to bite her cheek to hold back the chuckle.

Then Emma began to babble.

She loved it when Emma nervously babbled. It was – adorable. Ugh, she still couldn’t believe herself.

 _The Savior_!

She had fallen in love with the Savior.

Some former villain she was. If evil points were a thing to be had, she would have lost all of hers by now.  She could only imagine what Maleficent would say if she knew.

“Why are you here?”

Regina pursed her lips. She would say she had wanted a cup of coffee and then stride out of the office.  Yes. She would leave. Now.

“I want to talk to you about that man you brought into my town."

And then they were bantering, like old times. They were snarking back and forth, eyebrows popping, eyes rolling.

That is until the buffoons flew through the door, nearly running her over. She snarled, though whether at the near danger or the sudden interruption she did not know.

Hook and Baelfire immediately started in as they had done so often in Neverland; two stupid dogs fighting over what they saw as a good meal.

She crossed her arms and ankles, leaning against the wall and throwing death glares.

She had gotten here first. Could they not wait their turn? She didn’t interrupt _their_ Emma time. She only came between their plans…some of the time.

She chuckled inwardly. That almost made it sound as though she still had her hat in the ring, that she was still playing a silent but effective game in which she would surely walk away with the grand prize; Emma’s affections.

But she had given up when they returned home – right? She wasn’t in the running anymore.

She watched the men pressure her about dinner and her eyes narrowed further, seeing Emma’s obvious misery.

That was a stupid question.

Yes. She was still in. Of course she was.

And she was going to win.

 

* * *

 

She knew how she needed to begin.

Step one. Insert yourself into her everyday life.

Step two. Do everything different from how the men were doing it.

 

So here she stood. Watching the typical morning happenings on her small mirrored compact – as she did every morning; only this time she was standing just outside the Charming’s door.  Uninvited and feigning confidence.

She gathered her wits, readying herself for the show and knocked.

 

And she had been successful.

 _She_ had walked Emma and Henry to school.

Emma had chosen _her_ drink over the others.

Emma hinted that she wanted neither man – at the moment anyway.

_Emma had fed her a bite of toast. Fed it to her! Off of the same piece that Emma had been eating!_

Of course, best of all. Regina had succeeded in securing plans for the evening; something neither man had been able to do.

She almost felt bad for the men. They had no idea who they were fighting against.

 

* * *

 

Torture. This was torture. Pure, unadulterated, blissful torture.

She had primped. She had polished.

She had shaved twice; though why she didn’t know.

She had spent an hour in front of the mirror talking herself up.

Step three. She was going to explain to Emma that she was the secret touch and hope for the best. She was going to tell her tonight – only - her resolve had died the moment Emma stepped into her home, her giant grin in place.

So they just sat there – laughing – watching a movie - enjoying one another’s company.

Regina couldn’t reach out and touch her. She couldn’t kiss her. She couldn’t –

 

The touch could.

The touch could reach out and touch her anywhere it pleased, anytime it pleased.

The touch had permission. _Somehow_ the touch had gotten permission.

The only problem was Regina had banished the touch. No more of that.

No matter how much she wanted it.

No matter how much she _needed_  it.

If she couldn’t grow the hell up and tell Emma the truth, then she didn’t deserve the reward of Emma’s skin under her fingers.

 

Still, she had fought with herself the entire movie. Across the couch from Emma, Henry sprawled between them, Regina had fantasized, wondered - wanted to know what Emma would do if the touches appeared now, even as a casual embrace.

She just…she just wanted to run her fingers through her hair…just once…or twice.

What would Emma do? Would Regina see another secret smile?

She wanted to know and that was a hard thing to stop.

She had been the Evil Queen, damn it. This whole not taking what she wanted thing was really pissing her off.

She couldn’t do that…not to Emma Swan. She couldn’t just take Emma Swan. Even if she wanted to. Perhaps the strong, outright and direct approach would have worked nicely with Emma before the men but now that she was in the center of a tug-of-war…no, it couldn’t be done. She hoped that in time she could win Emma, if she was very lucky, but it would take finesse and a gentle hand.

No, she couldn’t take her. She needed to wait, take her time and see.

 

Still her fingers had itched for the entire torturous ninety minutes.

 

* * *

 

“Puleeeeease!” Henry begged.

“Yeah, Regina. Puleeeeease!” Emma leaned over the counter, giving her the biggest puppy dog eyes she had ever seen. Regina’s lips pursed, hands on her hips.

“Come on, we’ll share it!” Henry offered hopefully.

“What? You’re crazy, kid!” Emma scoffed and teasingly pushed him. “I want one of my own!”

“Maaaa!” Henry groaned. “If we don’t say we’re going to share it, then she’ll never give it to us!”

Regina pursed her lips harder, this time holding back a laugh. “Oh?” she asked dryly, “Is that so, young man?”

Emma grinned and Regina saw the grin mirror itself across her son’s face. Devilish. Adorable. Playful.

“It’s just another turnover! Come on!”

“I don’t know, kid. I think she likes torturing us.”

They had paused their marathon long game of The Game of Life for Regina’s famous apple turnovers with just a hint of caramel sauce, made specifically for Emma. The two had scarfed their treat down in minutes and had, like mother/like son, turned on Regina, begging for more.

Regina was enjoying it thoroughly.

“Well, Ms. Swan, if you are not going to look out for the well-being of our son’s teeth, I suppose I will.”

“And what about my teeth?” Emma grinned, exposing all of her teeth at once. “I promise they’re healthy.”

“Hey! Traitor!” Henry yelled, shoving her.

“Sorry, kid. You’re already winning at Life. It’s every man for himself now.”

Regina’s lip twitched and while she immediately swallowed to hide it Emma beamed and Regina knew she had seen it and was pleased.

“Tell you what. If you promise to clean your room tomorrow then you can have half.”

Emma’s grin widened, “My room is already clean.”

Regina rolled her eyes, turning away to cut another turnover in half so Emma did not see her smile.

Things between them were generally awkward. They hadn’t exactly found their footing; Regina imagined because Emma was missing a piece of the puzzle – the piece labeled Regina-has-feelings-for-you. But tonight it was different. It was easy. It was nice.

Tomorrow they would probably go back to the shuffling, glancing awkward but for now –

Emma’s phone beeped as Henry dived for the extra treat.

She checked it and shoved it back into her pocket with a huff.

“Everything alright?” Regina asked, in her usual dry monotone, hiding her interest.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Hook. He wants a date tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Yeaaah.”

“I see.”

Silence engulfed them.

“Well.” Regina sighed as if considering. “I suppose you could tell him that you have plans here.”

Emma’s turnover flopped to the floor as she stared in a wide-eyed stupor of shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...not to be a tease but I'm REALLY excited for tomorrow's chapter. I wrote an outline after a few glasses of wine and it gave me a lot of hope. It should be funny! (It will also go up on Tumblr after the chapter is posted because my wife and I   
>  laughed our asses off when we read it later)


	7. Chapter 7

That night Regina lost at The Game of Life; something she thought rang with bitter irony. The next night she lost at Cranium when Emma showed up with beer for the adults, soda for Henry and a confused looking Ruby. She had tried to win but how was she supposed to know that the answer to the strange upright seizure that Ruby was having had been – duck…?

The night after that Regina won at Sequence – only to lose epically at Hedbanz because - who the hell was Charlie Sheen? Then came Monopoly, Clue and Scrabble in consecutive nights – all of which Regina lost – and she didn’t care in the slightest.

Emma had been over at the mansion nightly. Regina was sure it was because each time the men asked her to be somewhere she simply splurted out Regina or Henry’s name and then disappeared into the night, reappearing with a sheepish grin on the porch of 108.

It twinged a little that surely Emma was only coming over because she was avoiding the men, but beggars _could not_ be choosers and she was happy to take what she could get.

 

* * *

 

“But the _whole point_ is to eat candy until I throw up. Come on, mom!” Henry rolled his eyes, his preteen showing. “That’s the fun part.”

“It’s fun to eat caramel apples and cotton candy until you vomit?” She stopped, midway through the process of pulling Henry’s coat on and cocked an eyebrow.

He let out a long and animated sigh, “Mooooom, you just don’t get it.”

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“Well.” Regina zipped his coat and gave him a small shake of her head, “Does Emma get it?"

He lit up and laughed, "Yeah."

"Then I guess it’s good that we have her. I suppose it's important for a young boy to have someone to share the hobby of eating candy until he vomits - I suppose."

He giggled his usual little boy giggle which was slowly, as time passed, maturing into a warm adult laugh. Regina's heart fluttered and hurt all at once.

 

The doorbell rang.

"Emma?

He nodded and for a moment mother and son shared a grin before Henry jumped to the door and let her in.

 

“Hey.” Emma smiled tentatively, her hands nervously in her pockets.

“How are you tonight, Emma?” The name came out a warm embrace and Regina kicked herself. Lucky for her, Emma was looking after Henry and hadn't noticed.

“Good. Good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They stood in their usual slightly awkward standoff. Were they friends? Were they enemies? Should they hug? What about a handshake? Perhaps they should just skip all of it and Regina should simply cuddle into her arms.

 

“So. You ready kid?”

Henry beamed, scarf now in place, “Yeah. Bye, mom!”

Emma’s eyes flicked to Regina, “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

A sliver of flatter tickled through Regina. Had she just been invited? It wasn't often that Regina was invited anywhere! “Oh no, that’s alright. You have your evening with Henry.”

“You sure?”

“I suppose I may drop into the festival later, if the mood strikes. I do, however, have a book I'm anxious to finish.”

Emma grinned her playful half-smile that Regina loved, “Whatever you say.”

And they were gone.

The moment they left Regina regretted her refusal. She could have gone too; the house was too quiet. Plus, Emma had turned down both men for the night; maybe it meant something that Emma had invited her.

 

* * *

 

An hour later she was taking a Styrofoam cup from Leroy, who was too busy giving Sister Astrid googly eyes to realize he had given her a huge pour.

“Thank you.” She snapped, annoyed.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

Whether fairy or nun the giggling woman would never be in a relationship with the drunkard, so why was he even bothering? That was such a waste of time.

She stopped in the process of tightening her coat.

Well that was ironic, wasn’t it?

She clutched the cup, enjoying the warmth in her fingers and began to wander. She really hadn’t intended to come to the festival but her book had suddenly grown dull as she imagined what Emma and her son were doing together. How many times had they gone through the cotton candy line? When they bobbed for apples had Emma reemerged from the bucket, her eyes glittering with mirth, Regina’s own Honeycrisp lodged between her teeth? How many handfuls of Candy Corn, a personal favorite of Regina’s, had they already shared? Did they miss her at all? Even a little bit?

So she had thrown on her coat and started toward the festival.

She wasn’t going to look for them though. They were having Emma & Henry time. She would just wander - for a while and enjoy the changing leaves and – damn it, where were they?

She sipped her drink and frowned. _This_ was _not_ apple cider. It was ridiculous. The whole town knew that she brewed her own cider and that it was actually good. Why didn’t they ask her to take over making it for the festival? Were they all still so terrified of her that a simple question such as that was a daunting task?

This drivel tasted like Mott’s apple juice with some cinnamon sprinkled into it. But oh boy, it packed a punch. It burned as it went down, churning hotly in her stomach and immediately going to her head.

She moved through the small crowds, giving a regal nod to those who had decided she was benign enough to greet, sipping her cider quickly because she had nothing else to do. She checked her phone once or twice, hoping for a new email, text message or voicemail - something to do as she walked so she didn’t have to focus on the fact that she was the only one here wandering alone.

When she finished the first cup she purchased a second and wandered toward the benches.

Where the hell were they? Not that she was looking. Of course she wasn’t looking. She uh, she didn’t care, she just – curious…and worried for her son. Of course.

She cleared her throat and finished her second glass.

She bought another, eyeing the hopeless couple again and then settled on a far bench to people watch.

Perhaps she should just go home. What the hell was she doing here anyway?

Then again the residents of Storybrooke - entertaining. It never ceased to amaze her the interesting and often awkward romantic pairings that happened in this town. She understood that the town was small, she had made it that way on purpose, but Leroy and Astrid? Mr. French and the Widow Lucas? She also couldn’t help but to note that Billy, known formally as Gus-Gus, was spending a lot of time with Amelia Hanley – who had recently taken up the hobby of artisan cheese making. She had even caught wind that Pongo had recently gotten a local Pug pregnant. Storybrooke seemed to breed - strange.

 

Just as she was finishing her cup she noticed Emma taking a seat on a bench far across the grass from her. Regina was hidden behind a patch of trees but she could see clearly that Emma's face held a bit of sad again. What had happened? It wasn't a serious or deep sad but, a fiery wall of protective angst slammed into her. God, couldn't people just leave Emma alone? Why because she was The Savior did she need to spend her entire life - saving people?

Habitually, Regina’s hands lifted to give Emma a small invisible greeting but hesitated. Had it really been nearly a week since she had used the touch? She had not meant for that to be true but…she supposed it was because her days had been busy and her nights had been filled with Emma.

Well.

The touch did not need to gain popularity with the woman – Regina did. So she stood, surprised when she wobbled ever so slightly and bought two more cups of the pathetic excuse for cider.

She was halfway to Emma when she realized that Emma was no longer alone.

Hook stood, looking smug and moronic, tipping his cup to Emma’s in a cheesy cheers.

Regina growled, low in her throat. Gods damn it. What the hell was Captain Pretty-Boy doing here? Emma had told her that she had turned both men down!

She faltered. Emma wouldn't - lie - would she?

Suddenly Regina doubled in half, bending below the heads of the crowd to avoid being spotted as she snuck over to her bench again half hidden by trees and took a seat.

 _Had_ Emma lied to her? If so – why?

A terrible thought occurred to her, making her mouth pop open in surprise. What if Emma _knew_? What if she knew and she had been giving her the same brush off she often gave the men?

Regina scoffed into the night air and took a large swallow of the foul drink. No way.

 

 _Ugh. Look at him._ She scoffed again, this time a bit louder than she meant. He thinks he’s so suave with his stupid hair and jacket; a modern day Don Juan. Well. She had met Don Juan and all she could say was she knew if she ever needed a tip on what type of high heels to wear or what makeup covered a 5 O’clock shadow then he was the man to ask.

Ugh. No man should ever wear pants that tight. Really, where was his dignity? He was supposed to be a pirate for goodness sake?

You know what? She took another large swallow. I bet he shaves his chest. He looks like the kind of man who shaves his chest. She wondered for a moment if Emma would know the answer to that and glared at nothing.

She pictured Emma's strong hands sliding across the pirates razor burned chest. She frowned and swallowed her next drink thickly. Ew.

Her Emma wouldn’t do something like that.

I mean – Em - ugh. Crap.

A song from the stage caught her attention and she swayed a bit. Who was this? A local band. Her head bopped slightly and she hiccuped, blushing.

The drink was starting to go to her head...perhaps, just a bit.

Her eyes found the blonde and the booty pirate again.

And _where the hell_ was her son while Emma was flirting with this sad and incompetent man? Did she even know? What the hell was she thinking? Oh wait.

She squinted hard and caught sight of Henry running out of the haunted house, only to get back into line again with a small gaggle of his awkwardly teenage friends.

There he is. Alright, _fine._

She studied the two, growing a bit angry. Why the hell didn’t Emma tell him to go away? She doesn’t even look all that miserable.

Footsteps on the grass alerted her to a newcomer but she ignored whoever it was, too busy burning hateful glares into an unknowing Killian.

“Regina.” Gold said, taking a seat next to her, “How are you?”

She gave a noncommittal grunt and finished off her drink.

“Are you enjoying the evening?”

Her eyes flicked, perhaps a bit slower than she meant them too, growing heavy with drink. "Can I help you with something, Gold? You never seek me out unless you need something."

"Oh. I suppose you could say that I have a few questions about a new type of magic I've been sensing."

Regina wasn't listening, "I'm sorry, what?"

Gold had an amused grin on his face. “You seem – out of sorts.” He studied her for a few passing moments, “Are you drunk, Regina?”

She scoffed again, a small amount of spittle flying from her lip, “No. Of course not. I was the Queen.” She shifted waving her hand at him, “I don’t _get_ drunk.

“Uh, huh. Are you sure?”

“Can it, imp.” She bit; her eyes found Emma and Hook, annoyed to see that Neal was there now, handing Emma a huge cloud of cotton candy. “Oh look, there is the other one. Delightful."

Gold’s amusement doubled but Regina was too busy glowering to notice. She picked up the last glass, the one that was supposed to be for Emma and chugged half down. Emma’s face was falling as she stood between the men. Clearly they were beginning to fight - yet again.

God. Don’t they see how stupid they are for openly fighting over her? Men could be so dumb. The fiery lion of jealousy within her was beginning to roar rather insistently now. Perhaps she should go over there and -

“I see.” Gold said slowly, watching the trio across the lawn.

Her head whipped around, causing the festival lights to swim in psychedelic spirals for a moment, “And what is it that you see?”

He glanced at Emma and then back at Regina, “I would say that your jealousy is showing, Regina.”

“Shut up.”

He wasn’t wrong. Her vision was practically green at this point and she was considering using her magic to hang both men by the ankles from the nearest tree. She was getting tired of sharing...especially because the person she was 'sharing' had no idea that she was being....shared.

Ooooh, this was all so pathetic and sad.

She finished the cup in two large swallows.

“Right.” He said slowly standing. Regina jumped, having forgotten he was there. “Well, Regina. You have fun with that.”

Regina rolled her eyes, muttering a few insults none too quietly under her breath, leaning a little further than she meant to the left.

 

Across the grass the idiot men were standing close now, anger hot in their eyes. Regina was just beginning to wobbly wonder if the fight was going to get worse before it got better when with a quick strike, Hook had Bae by the shirt, his hook raising to – what, sink into Neal’s flesh?

Regina giggled loudly, clapping lightly, tickled. What did he think he was going to do? Kill the son of Rumpelstiltskin in the middle of the festival? I _diot._ This was better than dinner and a movie – oh shit. She had gone to lean sideways on her hand and missed the bench.

What had Leroy put in those damned drinks? She was going to have a strongly worded chat with Mother Superior about the alcohol levels of their drinks because -

“Oh shit!” Regina gasped, stumbling to her feet as Emma launched herself onto Hook’s arm, swinging like she was on a playground.

Oh her stupid girl, she was going to get herself hurt! That hook must be - sharp? Instantly Regina’s hand shot through the air, invisibly reaching for his throat but stopped at the last second. He had already released the other man and Emma was planted firmly on the ground again.

Oh. Her heart stuttered and fell as Emma’s face, for just a moment cracked. The look there, as she stood between the fuming men, broke Regina’s heart. She took a step forward, needing to comfort her. “Emma-“ she whispered and without giving herself permission she reached forward, softly touching her shoulder, down her arm and into her palm where she squeezed.

From across the grass, Regina could _see_ Emma’s fallen face mend a little. Warmth flooded through Regina as though she had swallowed another mouthful of the cider so she continued, lightly massaging her shoulders.

Emma took a moment and then turned on the men, fire flashing in her eyes.

A slightly drunken smile spread across Regina’s face at the sight and she settled back on the bench. Her mood had taken a huge dive when she had found Emma with the men but suddenly it began to climb again as she watched. Emma had turned angry, her face reddening as she placed her hands on her hips, chastising the men as though they were naughty schoolboys.

It was adorable. It was sexy. What she was saying must have packed a pretty heavy punch because both men looked sheepish.

Regina broke into a happy laughter as she watched, her fingers tickling down between Emma’s shoulders. She had to admit, now that Emma was angry with the men, Regina was enjoying the show.

Oh my god! Regina cackled, had Emma Swan just stomped her foot in anger? That was so cute! And…weirdly a turn on…Emma’s angry face was…hot. It was true that she often played the part of the blonde, making jokes, spilling her coffee and tripping over nothing but when it really came down to it, Emma Swan was a badass and not at all to be fucked with - and that was exactly how Regina Mills liked them.

Watching the spectacle, desire began to build.

Regina glanced around to be sure she was alone and, feeling the pressure in her pulse points increase, she purposely slid down Emma's skin with a playful bite of her bottom lip.

The air was turning wickedly cold around her but the tips of Regina’s fingers, the parts touching Emma, were deliciously warm.

Her mood swung again and anticipation began to build as she traced over the last bit of her back and, for the first time, down her skin and onto that firm and well-shaped ass that Regina loved to admire so much.

She couldn’t help her little gasp.

Oh, this was fun! She bit back a laugh, enjoying _all_ of this. Her fingers slipped down Emma’s thighs and started back up.

Emma was beginning to dance, her body warming to Regina’s secret touch.

This was _sexy._ She liked the way Emma couldn't seem to keep still under her touch.

Everything around Regina began to drop away as she imagined what it would be like to stomp over to The Savior, shoving the men away and simply taking her; pressing her against a tree and biting her bottom lip. She thought of curling those lips between hers, tasting, breathing in her scent.

Regina’s breath began to pick up, lightly. Her fingers began to work across Emma’s skin, wanting to pull her, clutch her. They ran across her stomach, over her ribs. Emma’s breath must have caught because the toned muscles there contracted quickly and then shook, before releasing. Regina sighed.

She ran over Emma’s back, up over her shoulder and then concentrated, eyes closed and imagining, on first one nipple, then the other.

Oh, Regina wanted - she needed -

She wanted to reverse the spell. She wanted to feel these touches on her body. It would be the closest she could get to actually sharing pleasure with the woman she desired so much.

She pictured the skin her fingers were caressing as she slipped over a heated nipple, down the side of her ribs in that way that Emma liked, around the taut belly button, to the edge of Emma’s jeans.

White sparks shot from Emma’s hands and Regina felt a sharp tug between her legs. Emma had no idea how powerful she was, did she? The things that their combined magic could do to one another was dizzying.

Oh, she wanted her and _clearly_ Emma wanted her in return.

She closed her eyes again and thought about what she could be doing just then with her tongue.

Oh gods, she was drunk. She was drunk and it was making her lusty.

All that she wanted was something to do with her tongue.

 

She lost herself in thought, her hands falling away.

 

When she opened her eyes her teeth snapped together, in a jealous fury. Emma had Baelfire by the face as if - as if she was going to fucking kiss him.

 _Hell no!_ She was _not_ getting Emma into - this state - for one of those stupid men! Absolutely not!

Emma flung his face away with disgust and Regina instantly settled - only - a mischievous annoyance was left behind.

Why didn't she walk away?

She sat back on the bench, her legs crossing clumsily, her arms folding.

It was time for Emma to walk away now. Enough of this.

With one finger, she purposely traced Emma’s nipple and watched as Emma began to squirm.

Uhhhmm. Regina’s eyebrow popped, devilishly taunting.

It was time for her to _make_ Emma leave. She would make Emma rush to the bathroom or even home...and Regina would follow her.

 

So she traced.

Up her back.

Over her breast.

Across her thighs.

Down her calves.

Below her ear.

Even down the side of her feet.

 

Emma was a regular marionette bouncing on her string. She looked like bees had found their way into her clothes and she was trying to shake them out without getting stung. She twitched and swayed and Regina found that knowing the secret of the pleasure Emma was feeling but trying to hide, made her already damp panties grow moist and then wet.

She sucked on her lip constantly, eyes drunkenly, lustfully hooded as she pushed harder, waiting for Emma to bolt.

 _Here kitty, kitty, kitty_ she sang lightly in her mind.

But Emma seemed to be opposed. She watched her take a deep breath and center herself.

“Oh!” Regina cried into the chill air. That bitch was trying to ignore her! “Well. We will just have to see about that.”

Her fingers softly reappeared at Emma’s calf, running up and squeezing her thigh and ass. Then, mouth watering and watching her like a hawk, she flicked - one smooth but full flick down Emma’s slit.

Everything in Emma’s hands dropped to the ground in a sticky splash of candy and cider.

Regina let out a dirty and mischievous giggle. Now that she had done it once, everything in her wanted to do it again.

Slowly, studiously she dragged a finger through her, beginning from just under Emma’s clit and ending at her entrance, torn between rejoicing and depression.

This was hot, his was fun, even funny, but it was also torture. She wanted to feel her, really feel her. She wanted to smell her. She wanted her finger to truly know the wetness there. And she couldn’t. Not like this.

She swiped again, making a small circle over Emma’s entrance.

Emma leaned over heavily, her hands on her knees and Regina’s appetite went _wild_ over the possibilities of that position.

Her finger flicked again, this time up Emma’s slit and over the tender bud of her clitoris. At once the woman dropped to one knee and the light above them shattered, sparking and sizzling everywhere.

Regina snarled, a feral cat ready to pounce.

That’s it. She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn’t do this game. She needed to talk to her. NOW. She needed to confess. Her want for Emma's mind, Emma's body, Emma's spirit was too great.

She stood, stumbling as she somehow stood on the edge of her coat. It took a moment but she straightened and took an assertive step forward.

Then she looked up and Henry was there beside his recovering mother.

Regina was not a woman who swore often because there was no dignity in swearing but when she saw the adorable cherub face of her son standing next to Emma she let out a strong and loud, “ _Fuck_!”

She stared for a moment, breathing hard and then, with an Emma-like stomp of her foot, she disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke.

She needed relief. She had to have it.

 

* * *

 

When Regina reappeared in her bedroom she wasted absolutely no time. She ripped her coat off, flinging it onto a chair and grabbed her shoes. With a yelp, the floor came up to meet her face, “Oh god!”

Was she making the room spin? She looked at her fingers and found no purple sparks coming from them, yet the room spun.

She groaned and ripped off one heel tossing it somewhere at random and then the other.

Using the bedpost to pull herself up, she ripped off her shirt and bra then slid onto her bed, ready - for the last thirty minutes or longer.

She closed her eyes and let her fingers softly play across each nipple. The sensation was instantly giant and she let out a soft cry of “Ooooh, thank god.” She brushed the already hardening nubs again and sucked in air. She could reverse the spell so that everything she was doing to herself Emma would also feel. Oh gods, yes! She pictured Emma writhing as Regina made herself come. But no, Emma was with Henry now so she rolled, her face in her pillow as she ran her fingers through her sopping curls, letting out an unabashed cry.

Her eyes closed and she pictured, she imagined as her fingers circled herself, slowly at first and then steadily quicker, sighs and moans falling from her with ease.

“Oh god.” Her hands clamped down on her sheets as Emma’s face swam into her vision, her soft smile, her mischievous grin. The blondes name slipped from her lips as, ass in the air, Regina fell - over the edge of her bed, landing with a earth shattering smack on her back.

She groaned.

“Ooow. Fuck. Ow.”

Okay. No more of Leroy’s cider.

In her mind she could hear Emma, if Emma were there, giggling at Regina, enjoying the scene that had just played out. She could almost hear her little giggle snort that slipped out when she was laughing too hard to control.

She bit her lip and her hand sloppily found her wet center again.

Her back arched, her heels dug into her carpet as she blissfully fell into her orgasm.

She flopped back onto the bed as soon as her body relaxed and swore into her pillows.

“Fuck.” She _had_ to get that woman into her bed and permanently into her life. 

  


 


	8. Chapter 8

And there she was. Looking into Emma Swan’s bleak eyes, standing in the hallway in front of the Charming apartment. The game had been played, match, set, point and Regina didn’t know who had won.

She supposed that depended on how the game was played - what the goal was. If it was to successfully stay away from Regina - the monster - the villain - the darkest evil - then Emma Swan had won. Because there was no way that the happy ending, the one Regina thought of so often, would be happening now.

She was an idiot. Regina knew she had caused this. She had known she was _going_ to cause it from the moment that she had watched Hook drag Emma into the hallway. She had known when she found herself locked in the bathroom watching their conversation on her compact mirror with dread.

She had known it from the moment she had lost control of herself and forced the - couple - apart.

She had been jealous.

She had been hurt.

She had done what she always did.

She felt pain so she had drawn a line in the sand and waited for anyone who would dare to put a toe over so she could devour them in one bite.

 _“Not all of us have love lives.”_ The words hung in the air like the world's ugliest balloons.

Oh her darling Emma had just said a mouthful there, hadn’t she? If only she knew.

Or perhaps she did. Perhaps she knew everything.

At this point, it really didn’t matter.

This morning she had stood a chance, she had been in the running against Hook and Baelfire - whether Emma had known it or not.

Now she wasn’t.

Two minutes of anger lashing and she had taken herself out of the race.

Pain. That thought caused pain, but what hurt worse was knowing that Emma was better off.

 

Still. There was regret.

She had told Pan not long ago that she regretted few of her past actions because, while they had been horrific, they had led her down the path that had given her Henry - and Emma - but this - she already regretted this fight. And there was no taking it back.

She was a fool.

She was toxic - a danger to anyone close to her. An easily spread and terminal condition.

 

_God, what have I done?_

 

And now she needed to get as far away from Emma Swan as possible - before more of the poison leeched from Regina’s skin and splattered The Savior.

 

Why had she thought that she could live a life that involved other people? Why did she think they would be safe? _Why_ had she thought that she had ever become anything other than evil?

Her eyebrow had popped in response to Emma’s words, a failsafe layer of protection against the accusation about her stagnant love life but now it drooped and she turned for the door.

It was time to go.

She _had_ to go - or break under their gaze.

She had debated disappearing in her usual cloud of purple smoke but no, not in front of Emma and her two superiorly virtuous suitors. Disappearing into magic would be a confession that she was anything other than angry and that - just would not do.

So she clutched the sturdy, cold metal bar that would release her into the morning air ready to flee when Emma whispered again.

“You know, you were never an escape plan, Regina.”

Her breath caught.

Was that true?

Of course that was true, you halfwit.

She knew that.  Emma didn’t hide the way that Regina did. She didn’t pretend. Emma was pure. Emma was honest. Emma was good. If Emma told you something then she meant it.

Emma wasn’t like - her.

“I was actually stupid enough to think the Evil Queen and I were friends.”

 

The words were crippling. Regina’s chest tightened, cutting off her airway in its attempt to swallow down the gagging lump of a sob that fought to break loose.

 

But she was well versed in this.

Her mother had taught her many things but how to avoid tears, well, that had been her greatest lesson of all.

Regina bit it back and slipped out of the door.

 

She walked briskly down the street, her heels clacking efficiently. She walked straight-backed and head high the few blocks to her home. She easily pulled her keys from her purse as if everything was normal as if she had simply forgotten a file.

She stepped past the threshold and clicked the door closed.

 

A single woman was strolling down the otherwise empty street in the middle of her usual morning speed walk at the moment the door to 108 Mifflin closed. She had just passed 110 when the howl of a broken and tortured animal, a gut wrenching sound like nothing she had ever heard before, made her jump and skitter away quickly in fear.

 

* * *

 

Regina had gone to work the moment that her anguished tears had subsided; appearing just to the side of her office chair so that she could simply sit and avoid - anyone else in the building.

She felt as though she was in a numb state of shock.

How had she done this?

That fight had been _all_ her fault.

And now all she could think was this: Henry had been right. I am a villain. I don’t get to have a happy ending. I don’t deserve peace and beyond everything else The Savior doesn’t _deserve_ to be stuck with me.

 

The Savior.

 

How was she?

She worried at her bottom lip, wondering if someone was there with her. Was she upset? Was someone holding her until the blackened words Regina had spat at her disappeared from her porcelain skin? Did she feel safe? Did she feel loved?

Was it one of the men who was making her feel that way?

Were they able to do what Regina could not? Take back the fight. Take back her words. Make it right?

Sick, nauseating hate bubbled up in her stomach like vomit.

She hated them. She didn’t know who would be there with Emma - Hook or Baelfire - Snow or Charming - it didn’t matter. Whoever it was, she hated them with everything in her. And she envied them.

And yet -

Did she have someone with her protecting her from Regina? She hoped so. She hoped she wasn’t alone.

Or perhaps Emma was simply fixing herself. Because, after all, they were barely friends, right? What did Emma care about a few hurtful, nasty words from Regina?

 

She had to know.

She didn’t want to know.

But she had to know.

If Emma was hurt then she had to see what she had done.

If Emma was fine then she had to know that Regina truly meant nothing to her anyway.

 

She stood, like a woman awaiting the drop and took two steps to her mirror.

 

Emma would be fine. She would be laughing about the asinine things Regina had said. She would be sipping coffee with her mother or with Hook or Baelfire and laughing about the jab that she had made about Regina’s pathetic love life.

Of course she would.

 

She waved her hand and instantly doubled over, pain, self-loathing agony deep and cutting rolled through her, leaving behind thick sorrow and remorse.

Emma wasn’t laughing or enjoying the day.

Emma was curled into the tiniest of balls on her unmade bed, tears dripping from her unblinking eyes. She looked so small. So sad. So broken.

Regina’s face had twisted, fighting to keep the sob inside but she was failing. She had done that to her.

In her past, she had lived for this, for the complete and utter breaking of someone’s soul.

Had her words really been so black? Had Regina’s friendship really meant so much? Was The Savior always secretly this broken?

Hate, thick, sinewy hate jabbed at her, cramping her stomach. She hated herself for this. She hated herself for so many things. She was an unstoppable demon and no one would ever be safe. Not Emma. Not Henry. Not Storybrooke.

She had to make it right. She had to fix it and not for Regina but for Emma. She couldn’t have Emma feel this way because of _her_. She needed to fix it and then she needed to exit her life. Maybe even Henry’s life.

Could she do that? Should she do that?  

She was a monster and it was only a matter of time before she hurt him too.

She had done it before.

She would do it again.

All of this was just proof.

The Evil Queen would _never_ be good enough for The Savior. Nor their son.

 

She took a moment to steady her shaking hands and then lightly reached forward and touched Emma’s curled back.

The woman jumped as though she had been jabbed with a pin cushion and Regina retracted her fingers. She paused a moment and she tried again, settling lightly and waiting. She waited for some sign that the touch was welcome.

It was a long while before Emma spoke and when she did Regina was glad.

The words hurt. They cut and Regina was happy to feel their sting, hoping perhaps, for more.

Emma’s voice was thin, shaky as if she had been very ill for a very long time, “You don't understand. Her face - she looked at me like she _hated_ me again. Like I was a bug...I am a bug."

Regina gasped, her fingers beginning to shake again. “Oh darling,” she whispered without realizing she had done it, “I don’t hate you. Don’t you understand? I’m the broken one.” The sour lump was building in her throat again and tears began to fall.

"God, how could I be so stupid?"

Here this wonderful woman was - blaming herself.

Regina was the lowest of low beings. If anyone was the bug here, it was her. Didn’t Emma know that?

 

Softly, she pulled on Emma’s arm until Emma was resting on the pillows.

She needed to hold her. She needed to feel her in her arms -

God, she was a selfish and despicable being.

What had made her this way? So she had a difficult past. So had Emma. Yet here, even in this state Emma was stronger than her, wiser. That was clear.

_It’s because Emma is good._

Right. Of course.

 

Softly she began to stroke Emma’s face, doing her best to comfort her, pulling away the layers of protection that Emma had wrapped herself in so she could release the poison.

Sure enough as she stroked Emma began to shake, rocking as the tears filled with Regina’s noxious behavior began to spill.

It was unbearable. Watching this. Knowing she had done it.

But she stayed.

She stroked until she could see the woman's bloodshot eyes growing heavy. Just as her eyes closed Emma said the most painful thing of all. “And you.” she whispered “If you truly care about me this much then why won't you tell me who you are?”

Regina froze for a moment, her heart thwapping with a mix of love and heartbreak and then continued her gentle stroking.

The touch, Regina’s touch, was something Emma enjoyed. It brought her strength, happiness and comfort. Even Regina knew that.

 

Regina vowed, her fingertips caressing sleep into her love, that while she would never take that comfort from her - she would also never ruin it by telling Emma that her beloved touch was the horrible beast named Regina.

 

The problem was that watching Emma as she fell asleep comforted by Regina’s touch - she knew she was more in love with her than ever.

 

* * *

 

Since the touches had begun again Regina had held a strict policy that no one, absolutely _no one_ was allowed to barge into her office. Just in case, like now, she was sitting on the corner of her desk, nursing a cup of coffee and gently stroking the blonde's hair as she slept.

So when her doors flew open, Regina wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or infuriated.

Her hand flashed, more a reflex than a choice and instantly the mirror was smooth silver again and her mascara smeared face was fresh and clean.

But her quick movements didn’t stop the clearly enraged Snow White from halting in her tracks, her eyes flicking to Regina’s suspiciously blank face then to the mirror and back.

“I will have you know, _Snow White_ that this is a private office! You _will_ knock like a civilized person or I will _throw you_ out of it by that god-awful sweater you are wearing!”

Snow’s eyes narrowed, jabbing back to the mirror and then back to Regina.

“What?” Regina barked.

“What were you doing?”

“I’m sorry?” She could feel her lip curl back into a snarl. She didn’t have time for this. She didn’t have any want to participate in whatever nonsense Snow had planned.

“The mirror. What were you doing in the mirror?”

Regina scoffed, removing herself from the corner of her desk and sitting with poise in the large office chair.

Her heart was racing but she was doing her absolute best to pretend it wasn’t. It simply would not do to get caught with her hand in the cookie jar - by Emma’s _mother_. No. She would fight tooth and nail and there was no way that Snow White was going to get her to confess. “Well, I don’t know about you Snow, but on occasion I like to check to be sure I am - presentable. Clearly this is not a habit of yours, else you would never be caught dead in public with that hair cut.”

Snow blinked, that same slow and stupid look that used to cross her face as a child making itself known again. “No!” She shook her head, “No, there was a person there! I saw it! Was it,” Snow gasped, her fingers clutching her throat and chest in shock, “was that Emma?”

“And why would I be looking at Emma through my mirror, Snow? Perhaps you missed the events of this morning. Now if you’ll excus-”

“ _You’re lying_!”

Regina’s head snapped up, fury - the fury she had been feeling at herself all morning clouding her vision, redirecting into hate for this woman that was so strong it could rival the days when her only goal in life had been to kill her. If Snow wasn’t careful she was going to get more than she bargained for. “Excuse me?”

“You’re lying to me! God, sometimes, I don’t know how but I forget how treacherous you are.”

Regina’s hands clamped on the arms of her chair, her knuckles going white. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to ignore the obvious truth in the statement.

“You were looking at someone in your mirror and now you’re lying. NO! Don’t bother to say anything else. Who knows if it will be the truth or simply a fairytale.”

Regina took a long shaky breath, “Was there something you came here for, Snow?”

Snow’s lips curled, looking so much like her mother Eva, “Yes. I did. I came here to tell you to leave my daughter alone.”

“What?”

“Leave her _alone_ , Regina. My gods, especially now!”

“Wha-”

“I’ve been watching you.” Snow spat, her essence slipping into that of a hungry and feral mother bear. Regina couldn’t say she was intimidated but she was definitely impressed - and pissed. “I know your secret.”

Regina’s coffee mug spilled coffee across the warm mahogany desk. She glared at it, furious that it had given her away. With a swipe the coffee disappeared and she glared, “ _What - secret?_ ”

“I know you’re in love with my daughter.”

Regina stared. That was bad, yes but - if this was the big secret then she didn’t know what she had been _doing_ to her daughter. She erupted into a fit of laughter.

“No!” Both hands smacked down on Regina’s desk, “Nothing about this is funny.” Snow’s accusing finger pointed at the mirror, “You will _not_ go near her, Regina. Everyone thinks that you have changed but I know the truth. This is proof, whether it was Emma or someone else! You will never change.”

Regina popped to her feet, fury and defiance pouring out of her. This tiny pest of a woman, always buzzing around her face, always whining, was going too far. “And just who the hell do you think you are?”

“I THINK I AM HER MOTHER! And I will _not_ let you get your hands on her. I will _not_ let you mold her to your ways. I am sorry Regina, you are out of luck.” Snow turned to go “And if you are stupid enough to ignore my warning, _your majesty_ , then do not be surprised when Charming and I take action. You took her from us once and you will _not_ do it again. I will kill you before I let that happen.”

Regina watched her go, her heart beating so hard that her vision shook. Her fingers were sparkling with a menacing fury and oh, she wanted to rip her throat out.

God damn it, but she couldn't argue. The woman was right.

 

* * *

 

So Regina stayed away. The fight made it easy for her to do so. She kept her distance - physically. Emma instead spent Friday night and all Saturday with her - as the touch.

It was wonderful. Emma was playful which had given Regina hope. Perhaps she hadn’t inflicted quite as much damage as she thought.

They teased, despite the conversation being one sided.

They played.

They flirted.

A lot.

And quickly, Regina found that the smiles Emma had for the touch no longer hurt. It was better this way. She could have Emma - in this small way and yet, Emma could remain safe - out of anger and damage range.

It was the best of both worlds.

Even if Regina was terribly lonely.

 

* * *

 

“Oh hello.” Emma grinned as she felt Regina’s presence.  “It’s late. What are you still doing up?”

Regina was lying under the blankets of her bed Saturday night and while she had intended to leave Emma alone for the night, somehow her compact had found its way into her hand. She giggled lightly and softly pulled once on Emma’s earlobe as a teasing hello.

“Are you in bed right now, too?”

Regina pulled on her ear twice, flopping over onto her stomach, her chin resting on her arms.

Regina’s melancholy had slipped away. It had been easy. It was Emma. She was the cure for all that ails. She had planned on staying in over the weekend in her pajamas but when she had checked in on Emma she had found that her mood was decent and that had been infectious.

 

Knowing that she would be keeping her distance helped a great deal as well.

 

Emma sighed, a deep lusty sigh, stretching her body in the way that Regina secretly loved.

Emma had been _pushing_ over the last twenty-four hours. She had been flirty, she had been suggestive - almost as if she _wanted_ Regina to - something. She didn’t know what but she was sure she would enjoy it.

Regina rolled her eyes but bit her lip and gave Emma’s side a small swat. "Okay fine, if you're not going to join me then I'm going to go to bed!" Emma stuck her tongue out and Regina buried her face in her pillows, laughing. How was it that this woman, without even knowing who she was, could pull a playful side from Regina that most did not know she possessed. Perhaps it was _because_ she didn’t know who she was. Regina didn’t have to answer for her - fun side.

Perhaps this decision to stay anonymous was better than she thought.

They sat for a bit in a communal silence, both knowing the other was still there as they thought.

But Regina was feeling - silly - a word she had used less than a handful of times in her life and never to describe herself.

 

So she played with her; tickling her until David had come rushing into the room with a baseball bat.

Regina had covered her head with a pillow while Emma tried to explain the strange noises to her father; loud and open-throated HA-HA-HA-HA’s ripping from Regina and threatening to wake the neighbors.  

This was wonderful.

 

"You're an asshole, I hope you know that." Emma gripped into the air once he was gone.

Two pulls; Regina laughing into her palm. “Okay, okay. I suppose I have tortured you enough for the evening.” Regina sighed and rolled into a sitting position. She shook out her hands, for the amusement sake of the empty room and began massaging Emma’s shoulders, neck, chest, stomach, her mind wandering as she enjoyed the soft sighs from Emma.

She focused on the tight muscles of Emma’s stomach. Regina had - accidentally-on-purpose watched one - or two...three of Emma’s workouts. Those muscles must be sore all of the time.

Regina was focusing on the trim muscles just under her belly button, her mind wandering to Henry’s latest math grades when she felt Emma’s stomach suddenly flexed sharply, a small gasp popping from her quickly reddening face.

Regina stopped, surprised. She had been thinking about math! Was she turning Emma on? _Really?_

She felt a small swoop of pride.

Emma let out a hilarious cry and began to babble while Regina watched the mirror, grinning.

“- Anyway, my point being that it's been a really long time, so I'm...sensitive. Plus I notice that you have been keeping your hands in appropriate places recently. Have you grown a conscience?"

Regina scoffed, flopping onto her back.

Two pulls.

She _had_ grown a conscience. She had woken from her night of cider and paced her bedroom for a long guilty hour. She wasn’t supposed to touch Emma - that much. So she had stayed clear despite Emma’s evident - desire.

“I see.”

Regina gasped, her hands flying off of Emma.

She had _heard_ that in Emma’s voice! She knew that Emma wanted - something more but - Regina’s breath caught, her body instantly stirring. If she had heard that little ‘I see’ from anyone in her bed she would have carefully and meticulously taken them apart at the seams - with her tongue.

Such want. Such desire.

Holy -

Then Emma squeaked, “Where’d you go?” - and Regina touched her.

She touched until they both were gasping, panting with need.

She touched her until Emma asked her to come to her.

She touched her until Emma slipped a hand over her underwear - and Regina did the same.

She touched her until Emma ripped her underwear off and for the first time Regina got a wonderful, tantalizing view of Emma’s slit, dripping wet and calling to Regina.

Instantly Regina plunged into herself, her head thrown back, her eyes glued to that delicious pink pussy. A loud cry fell from Regina as quickly she retracted and plunged again.

She watched as Emma’s long strong fingers circled her clit before slipping down, circling her entrance.

Regina thrust again, her toes curling back. _My god._

_Reverse the spell. Reverse it, Regina!_

Her hand lifted, ready to let Emma feel her quick and steady fingers working within her -

Emma’s phone rang.

“Nooo!” They both shouted.

She watched as Emma prepared herself to answer and, one hand still busy with herself Regina staunchly held her other hand down, blocking the phone from being picked up. They were _going_ to get off - together. _They were going to, goddamnit!_

Emma whined that it was the station, her voice still thick with the orgasm that she hadn’t been able to enjoy.

Regina released the phone with a scream of frustration and flopped face first onto the sheets.

This type of relationship was insufferable.

She considered magicking away Emma’s phone but no, it would disappear in a cloud of purple.

So she watched Emma get dressed, grumbling and leave in an irritated disbelief.

 

When Regina woke the next morning, her entire body still sang. She hadn’t let herself come the night before - as much as she wanted it. She refused.

So she was a grumpy ball of anger all of Sunday.

And Sunday was incredibly busy.

So busy that she didn’t get home until very late.

Therefore by the time she fell into bed, itching, grumpy and ready for a repeat of the night before - The Savior was already asleep.

“No!” Regina bit at the mirror. She rolled onto her back. God damn it. She had been waiting all day.

Then an idea curled into her mind.

She sucked in her lips and wondered…

Climbing above the covers she slowly, languidly pulled the silky button up off of her skin, then the pajama pants until she was lying blissfully naked in the cool night air. That small sinful act, lying exposed in this way, her nipples hardening from the cool air was enough to send her pulse beating down her body and nestling in the small sensitive bud of nerves.

She enjoyed the sensation for a moment longer, then with an evil grin she firmly flexed two hands and felt her skin suddenly tingle, a warm staticy feeling glowing from her head to her toe. She hummed to herself, enjoying the feel of her own magic.

She thought of The Savior and began to softly trail her hands up and down her stomach, over her thighs, down her arms, across her chest.

Slowly she felt Emma wake and could only lick her lips when Emma’s breath caught and she said “Oh! You’re here.”

“That I am.” She responded to the woman who could not hear her.

Regina took a deep breath and hand flat, ran it up her side and over her full breast, cupping it; the sensation doubled since she knew that Emma was feeling it as well.

"Have I told you that I have dreams about you?" She heard Emma’s voice ask from the mirror beside her.

Regina bit her lip, stretching languidly in the dark and pulled once on her ear.

Dreams? That sounded - promising.

"Well, I do. Well not _you_ exactly but this faceless person and we -"

Regina moaned. Emma Swan was dreaming of her.

How absolutely tasty was that?

She didn’t want to wait any longer.

Both hands slid quickly up to her breast, rolling the nipples and making Regina cry out in the darkness as she heard Emma making a similar noise.

She touched everything, everywhere; panting, eyes rolling.

She tickled her hips, down her thighs, over her legs, up her thighs, over her stomach, onto her breast, over her neck and into her hair.

She rocked, gyrating with pleasure covering her body again and again and again, letting out small “oh”s while Emma chanted “Oh Jesus. Oh god.”

She wanted to watch the mirror, she truly did but she couldn’t keep her eyes on it, not when she was making those wonderful sounds come adamantly from Emma’s mouth.

The cries became muffled and Regina discovered Emma had shoved a palm into her mouth, to bite down and stifle her exclamations. Regina imagined her neck between those teeth and jerked, groaning.

“Oh no.” She wanted those sounds. Firmly she pulled the palm away from Emma and it was like uncorking a champagne bottle, a loud moan fell from her lips before Emma shoved the palm back in.

Regina chuckled, pinching her nipple and wailing.

Fine. Emma could have her palm.

As a matter of fact -she softly pressed a palm to her lips, knowing it would hold Emma’s hand there and with the other she slipped down her stomach and into her aching center.

Regina cried out, her hips popping off the bed while a high, muffled cry from Emma filled her ears.

It only encouraged her.

She was going to have this. She was going to make them both come.

She dipped in again and softly pressed against her throbbing clit. Together they let out a chorus of high moans.

She slipped a wet finger around her clit in a circle once, twice - oh god with those sounds that Emma was making - this wasn’t going to take long. Oh!

Regina’s breathing began to hitch. Emma began to plead for more.

 

Her thighs were beginning to shake. She was nearing her edge - oh god. Emma! Was Emma - her body shook, pulsed and danced. Yes! She - she -

"Oh god, I'm - I'm going to - oh my go-" she heard from the mirror and -

The pounding on the door downstairs was so loud that she instantly jumped off the bed, her naked legs tingling.

The connection had broken, her magic had crackled and died.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

She could barely walk. She had been a breath away.

“WHO THE HELL IS IT?”

She threw on a robe and stomped downstairs.

Deputy David.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?”

  
  


 


	9. Chapter 9

 

He had wanted absolutely freaking nothing.

The goody freaking two shoes had ‘woken’ her because she had left the interior lights on in her car.

She had growled. “THAT is why you came pounding at my door in the middle of the night? Because you were worried about the health of my _car_ battery?”

He had looked sheepishly apologetic. “My daughter tells me you’re a bit of a night owl so I thought there was a good chance you would still be awake. Plus, uh, the house is - kinda big. So um, loud knocking.”

She had snarled through her teeth, beginning to slam the door in his face and snapping her fingers simultaneously.

She stopped mid slam.

She snapped again, trying to turn off the light from where she was -and realized that her magic had been depleted.

 _“Noooo!”_ She gasped, snapping again and again. No!

Normally that wasn’t a big deal but she had been very much in the middle of something!

Magic was a very finicky thing and apparently halting an orgasm when you were a breath away and magically connected to another person was enough to do it.

She tried and tried but she _could not_ get Emma back.

She had sworn - a lot. And then she had forced herself into bed.

Sleep. If she slept the magic would come back. She needed sleep and maybe a big breakfast.

Plus. Tomorrow was Monday. Tomorrow would be the first morning that, if she was following her usual routine, would bring her to the Charming home.

She had a choice to make.

 

* * *

 

She had showered and dressed the next morning and then stood at her bathroom mirror. With a flick of her wrist, the silvery sheet turned into a window which opened up to Emma standing at the coffee maker.

Regina felt a smile snap to her lips and lightly caressed the woman's arm.

Emma’s jaw flexed hard “You - I - we are not speaking!"

Regina scowled. Was she teasing or actually angry? She softly squeezed Emma’s shoulder with two fingers and was relieved to hear a sarcastic approval of Regina’s remorse.

“Trust me, if I had my way, things would have gone differently last night.” She told the mirror, a touch of bitter annoyance in her tone.

Emma snarked a few more comments while Regina stood beside her front door.

Should she go?

She wanted to go.

But - she shouldn’t.

But she wanted to.

From afar she looked like a dancing doll in a music box. She started toward the door, only to spin and head away - then she would about-face and start toward the door again - over and over.

She shouldn’t go.

Emma in the mirror snapped a few times insisting, in a sense, that they were fighting now and Regina was surprised to say she wasn’t worried.

Perhaps it was because she had stepped out of her front door and now she could only worry about what would follow.

 

It had been Snow’s face that had convinced her to do it. Snow’s face as she threatened her.

Perhaps she hadn’t changed - but there was _no way in hell_ she was going to let Snow be the one to insist that.

So Regina walked the few blocks to the Charming’s.

 

And it had been fine.

 

Snow’s stupid face had been wonderful to see when she had stepped through the door, milk dribbling down her chin as her eyes bludged. It was clear that Snow had thought she had done a wonderful job at banishing Regina from Emma’s life.

Her obvious confusion had added a little spring to Regina’s step.

Then the morning had been like any other.

And that was good.

So good as a matter of fact that Regina hadn’t been able to get it off of her mind. She had tried to work but instead she had found herself daydreaming.

Finally at lunch time she gave in.

She needed to see her again. In person.

This whole stay away for her own good thing was impossible.

Just because she was … around … that didn’t mean … anything … right?

She had walked double her usual pace, gathered lunch and then appeared at the station.

“Regina!”

Emma had jumped like someone had just shoved a hot poker up her ass. What had she been doing?

Regina’s eyes narrowed a bit. She could smell cigarette smoke again. She had smelled it this morning and had a hint of an idea that perhaps The Savior had given in to her old habit. Should she be worried about that or perhaps - flattered?

She also looked, a bit sleepy.

Had she been sleeping on her desk?

Had she been - dreaming? The thought brought a huge grin to her face.

She pulled up a chair and took a seat across from her, watching as Emma’s red eyes slipped down to Regina’s legs.

_Was she checking out her legs? Since when did Emma check out her legs?_

“You look like shit, Emma. What's wrong?" She sniffed again and realized that she could smell her own magic in Emma. Her lips twitched for a moment before she swallowed the smile down. So _that’s_ where her magic had gone last night. Emma squirmed a bit, her face flushing and Regina’s eyes grew wide, her throat dry.

She must be very uncomfortable right now. She had assumed when Emma said that she still felt as though her knees were going to give out that perhaps she was still feeling sleepy or mildly turned on. But it seemed as though Regina’s magic was still in her completely, swimming through her bloodstream and making her nerves sing.

She felt herself lick her lips as she imagined the level of arousal she must still be at.

She watched Emma watch her legs and understood.

Emma’s libido was clearly still _very_ high. And that was - delightful.

 

“Did you bring me lunch?”

Regina’s smile widened, despite the uncertainty that flicked through her.

She watched as Emma, with obvious trust, unwrapped the sandwich and bit into it, instantly moaning.

Regina’s eyes grew wide as the noise immediately switched to a carnal groan of pleasure before cutting off entirely.

_Oh my._

Emma’s eyes had flown wide and then shifted to Regina anxiously.

Keeping the laughter back was quite difficult. She could see Emma’s internal struggle playing across her face. She was squirming in her chair like a mad woman. Who did she think she was fooling?

Regina’s foot began to tap. Her body was heating. Crap. She didn’t have time today to give in to all out arousal. But Emma was studying her - as if - Emma didn’t _know_ , right? There was no way that Emma could know it was her, right?

Yet here she was, flushing and giving Regina a look that said she wanted to taste every inch of her body.

Oh god, did she _know?_

Regina could think of nothing else to do but to go on the offensive, “Alright, I've had it. There has been something going on with you for days and I will not stand for it anymore. What's. Wrong."

_Please don’t say you know. Please don’t say you know. Oh god, I should have stopped. I shouldn’t have let it go this far!_

Emma’s eyes flicked, a deer caught in headlights and then she crumpled. “Okay fine but Regina, please. You can't tell anyone."

Regina leaned forward, her heart racing - everywhere - highly intrigued.

When Emma burst "I have a touch" it was all she could do to stop the high pitched Rumplestiltskin-like giggle from exploding past her lips.

“A what?”

Emma shimmied her way to the edge of her chair and explained in a hurried whisper.

"I see." Regina said slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. "When exactly did this start?"

"Neverland."

"And yet Rumpelstiltskin thinks it's someone in Storybrooke?" Oh, she loved this stupid and slow woman before her. Gold, the irritating chimp, had all but spelled this out for her hadn’t he? Yet it was clear that she hadn’t put two and two together. Why was that?

"Yes?"

"I see." She said again, studying Emma’s flushed yet earnest face. "Emma-” Regina slowly formed her words, captivated by the hungry yet blushing look on Emma’s face. She pushed. “When you say it touches you what exactly do you mean?"

Emma twitched and went red, "Um. Well."

"You don't mean - Emma!" Regina cried in mock surprise.

"I know, I know!" She cried, "It's weird, I know!"

Regina leaned forward, carefully. This was - stirring. She could feel her blood beginning to bubble. She needed to be careful or - she leaned in closer than, well, than was appropriate, "Are you having sex with it?" A shudder ran down Regina’s spine as hunger flashed through Emma’s eyes.

"No!" Emma yelled and aggressively shoved away from her; the scent of Regina’s magic growing stronger for just a moment.

Regina’s mouth fell open. The cry from Emma had been regretful and angry. It had gathered straight into her center and Regina had to cross her legs else - "But you want to!"

"I can't explain it, Regina. I know that it sounds crazy but whoever it is, fuck, they're amazing!"

Everything in Regina had been building, warming into a lusty haze but that all instantly dropped away. “What?”

She didn’t understand. Amazing - at touching her? Amazing - in bed? She frowned, leaning in again.

"No really. I know, I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I've learned so much about them. I've never had anyone make me feel the way that they do and I haven't even fucking met them yet!"

"Yet? Do you uh, do you think you will?" Regina asked lightly, her heart pounding out a Riverdance in her chest.

"God I hope so." she groaned, "I might kill something if I don't. All of this -” Emma paused, reconsidering her words and Regina’s intrigued picked up again. This conversation was turning into quite the rollercoaster. "Regina. Maybe you can tell me…"

"What, m -?" She cut herself off. It had become such a habit to call Emma my darling, my dear, my love when talking to her in the mirror that those words had nearly slipped now.

"Try not to judge me here, please but I have never had sex with this - person but we've gotten very close."

"Oh?" Regina stared transfixed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was talking about close - as people - as well as sex. She was sure of it. She wondered for a moment if she should confess right now and see what happened?

"Um, yeah. Last night it uh, fuck I don't know. It was like it wrapped me in some type of sexual force field or something, I don't know but fuck- I came this fucking close. I don't know, I've never felt anything like that before."

"Why um, why didn't you - you know?" Her chest was beginning to tighten and suddenly her panties were feeling a bit too small as she remembered just how close Emma had been.

How long - she wondered - would it take her to get Emma back there to that state - here on this cheap office desk?

"It fucking stopped! I was like a fucking breath away from an orgasm that I'm not even sure my body could fucking handle and it fucking stopped!"

"Really?" Regina gasped, reaching for her bottle of water.

An orgasm that I’m not even sure my body could fucking handle. Regina took a deep breath and let it out slowly, missing her bottle and spilling water everywhere.

Emma didn’t notice. "Yes! I have no idea why! Do you think that maybe it can't unless we're in person or something?"

Cocky arrogance flooded Regina as she cleared the water, and then her throat. Oh, if only she knew how wrong that was. And if this conversation went on for much longer, she was fairly sure Emma would find out.

She studied Emma’s hopeful face and wondered again, did she know? Was this all - bait? Was she just trying to convince Regina to give herself up? "You said you don't know who it is?"

"No!"

"Well,” she reached for something to say. She didn’t want to say perhaps they got interrupted because what if David had informed Emma that he had stopped by her house the night before? So she just let random words spill “my thought is maybe they didn't want to do something they were not sure you wanted. It's not as though you could have a conversation about it."

"No way. I was basically begging!”

 _Please. Please! Yes. Oh god. Ye- shit. Oh god. Fuck._ Regina suddenly heard that again and gasped, involuntarily.

“Trust me, I wanted it - which still feels weird to say since, you now, I have no fucking clue who this is. Oh god, do I sound like a slut? Because I swear it's like I'm in a _relationship_ with someone I can't see. I'm not just throwing myself at something, I mean, someone random who I can't see."

Regina grinned widely, "Have you thought about telling it that you want to?" She was picturing Emma begging, on her back in her bed again. She pictured her begging Regina to fuck her.

Her body kicked into a high buzz and she began to squirm ever so slightly.

"No! Because what I would really like it is to have a fucking two-way relationship with this person."

Regina hesitated, "But if you were never to meet the person-" Shit. Was Emma ready to be done with the touches? Because Regina wasn’t sure that she was - not at all - not...ever.

"Oh god, don't say that!" Emma’s face disappeared under her hands. "But I guess if that's all I got - yeah I would take it. But I just really, really want to know who it is! Anyway, what I wanted to know is -" Emma looked up and her eyes popped, "Are you okay?"

"What?" Regina released the lip she had found she was biting. _Don’t give yourself away!_

"Are you okay?"

"Um, of course. Why do you ask?"

"You're cheeks are really red. Are you hot?"

"Aren't you?" Regina could taste the double meaning as it poured off of her tongue. God, wasn’t she? How could she talk about this so placidly? Regina could feel her shirt beginning to stick to her back. She was fairly sure that soon she would explode. Would it really be so bad? Emma seemed like she was so desperate to know who it was that she would romantically consider anyone - even if it was the person who had recently hurt her so badly.

She could just -

Emma shrugged, "Anyway, I was up all fucking night. It was like I was super charged all night um, if you know what I mean. Is that - normal?"

Regina jumped. She had been picturing - whew - she took a deep breath. Get it together. "Well, honestly, Emma I don't know. I think so."

"I uh," Regina wondered if Emma knew just how close she had leaned in, "I can't help but to feel like if I - you know-"

"What?"

"You know."

"What? Oh!" Regina’s thighs slammed together. Emma was talking to her about touching herself. The roller coaster had just gotten very good again. She thought of Emma scrambling out of her underwear, her legs falling to the side, her pussy dripping because of Regina’s invisible fingers.

"Yeah, if I - you know - tonight then I might feel better. I mean fuck, my skin has been on fire all day!"

Suddenly Regina was very aware of her breathing. Her heart was racing, her skin was on fire. Her breath was trying to keep in time with the rest but that would be a giveaway. She couldn’t let Emma know just how much she wanted to leap over the desk.

Her breath hitched and stumbled as she tried to maintain a normal pace.

When had they gotten so close? Emma’s lips were a breath away from hers. All she would need to do was lean forward a little bit.

Her breath stuttered again.

Suddenly Emma’s eyes were flicking, to her lips, to her breast, to her eyes.

Oh god, if she didn’t force herself away she was going to take this woman; she was going to make Emma hers.

Her hands twitched, her slit ached. "Oh I don't know, Emma. I mean, I have no real experience in this,” she rambled, barely listening to herself “but I feel as though when it comes to magic such as that - well, masturbation might only make the symptoms worse.” She began to plot their evening that Emma was unaware they would be sharing. There would be no interruptions this time. “Can you imagine, from what you're telling me, what it would be like if say the magic kept you from reaching - completion. Or if an org - completion, under those circumstances, were to, say double the effects.” There was no way she was going to encourage Emma to finish herself. “If I were you, next time your touch, as you say, comes to call I would make it abundantly clear that you would like-"

"To come. Preferably with it."

Inwardly Regina groaned, delicious pleasure rushing through her as she set those plans in stone.

Tonight, come hell or high water, she would make Emma Swan come.

She was going to make love to her and then - she didn’t know.

“Right. What I would recommend -"

"Yeah?" Emma leaned in a little.

Regina licked her lips, oozing sensuality, letting it spill over and cover Emma. She leaned forward again, confident in her plan. "Beg."

Emma’s face instantly grew serious, “Right. I think you’re right.”

Regina bit the inside of her lip and rose from her chair.

“You’re leaving?”

Regina’s eyebrow popped, “Work.”

“Oh.” Emma breathed obviously disappointed, “Right.”

Her blood was still rolling watching those green eyes contemplate the best way to get Regina to fuck her.

That thought made Regina’s knees weak.

“See you tomorrow morning?”

Regina nodded stiffly, yet to put a cap on that seductive growl her voice had at some point slipped into, “Indeed.”

She could feel Emma’s eyes on her back as she exited the building.

The moment that she rounded the corner she stopped and with a huge huff fell against the wall, breathing hard.

Her effort to keep her breathing even and normal had made her dizzy. Only, when she allowed it to come quick and harsh she realized that she was dizzy anyway.

She bit her lip and began to wait for that evening.

 

That night Emma Swan was Regina’s own reality show. It was unendingly entertaining to watch the blonde as she tried to relax in front of the TV, her body twitching and spasming all the while.

She would shift one way - only to shift the other. She would twist and throw her legs up on the table only to yelp and flush hot and bright red.

Finally; with an exasperated yell Emma shot to her feet, throwing the remote onto the table.

She watched her march into the bathroom and spin the water on solid _cold_.

Regina reached, about to turn the dial back, ready to tease when Emma paused, shirt halfway up her body.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Regina grinned and bit her lip, barely brushing a finger against her exposed belly. She wanted that shirt gone.

Emma’s slow grin was lazy yet proud. Instead of removing the shirt she popped the button of her jeans.

Regina sat up a little straighter.

Emma threw the zipper down and stood, eyebrow raised.

Regina hummed to herself as she carefully climbed one hand up those toned, flat muscles she so desperately wanted to see.

“Can you help me?”

Regina’s eyebrows danced. She could. But she wouldn’t.

After a minute Emma smirked.

The shirt disappeared.

She had seen Emma in various states of undress in their - communications but never like _this_. Emma pulled off her shirt and stood for a moment, in a sexy challenging pose, her jeans still tight around her waist, her bra dark against her skin.

Regina sucked in a deep breath. She was glorious.

She sighed. She, as a whole, was not a patient woman but some things - some things were worth the wait.

She watched Emma remove her socks and then pause, hands at her jeans.

Regina growled at the mirror impatiently.

Emma’s grin grew as slowly she began to shimmy her hips, pulling down her jeans inch by inch.

Regina’s hands spasmed and the wine glass she had in her hand splintered, a long crack up the side dribbling her 2008 Shiraz down her oblivious wrist.

_She wasn’t wearing underwear!_

Regina uncrossed and crossed her heeled leg, trying to regulate her breathing again.

All day? Had she been pantyless all day? At lunch?

Mindlessly she began to run fingers up and down Emma’s calves as she salivated, staring hungrily at Emma’s naked form. She could feel her magic buzzing in Emma, a heady arousing scent.

And then Emma sinned.

She smirked, “That’s all you get” and she stepped into the purely cold shower.

Regina felt her magic drain from the blonde as something, the sensation of the cold, finally overpowered the arousal of the night before.

“God damn it!” The wine glass splintered further.

That woman! She knew just how to - play - with Regina.

She was pissed, annoyed but also, somewhat proud.

She watched Emma shower, thinking. This wasn’t the only way that Emma seemed to know her. As a matter of fact, Emma seemed to know her in every way. Sometimes it was unnerving. She would do something then look over at Emma and see a smug smile on her lips.

Suddenly her lust - the pure aphrodisia she had been feeling began to melt - twist. It softened and suddenly her heart hurt. She wanted to be there with her.

So much.

 

* * *

 

Emma got out of the shower, humming lightly. She toweled off and headed from her bathroom into the bedroom clearly to dress but Regina was waiting.

Softly she clasped her shoulder and pulled, a playfully teasing pull.

Emma giggled, landing back on her bed, openly teasing her.

Regina’s lip twitched in the corner as she studied Emma’s face. It held just a sweet smile. Softly Regina brushed two fingers against it and smiled back, enjoying the beam that lit Emma’s face.

She caressed her face and imagined what it would be like to lean forward and press her warm cheek to her own. A small sigh escaped Regina’s lips.

She rested flat on her back, ridding herself of her clothing and flicked her wrist, feeling the live connection to Emma again. Then carefully she began to touch, caress, tease and rub every part of her - Emma’s body. She touched with the gentlest of care, hoping that Emma would feel it - just how much Regina cared about her - just how much Regina wanted her.

She teased all of Emma’s favorite places and then spent a bit teasing her own, feeling their senses begin to rise; their bodies begin to stir together.

The sounds from their lips started as small sighs, a hitch of breath here and there. Then they began to grow. A small gasp, a cry.

Their shoulders began to twitch, their bellies quivered.

Eventually they grew, small words falling.

_Yes._

_Oh._

Tenderly Regina caressed Emma’s face, her thumb lightly tracing affection while her other hand played against hard nipples.

She brushed Emma’s lips again, pretending they were her own and heard Emma’s delicately cracked voice whisper. “Please come to me. Please.”

Regina’s heart exploded. She could hear it, she could hear in Emma’s words, in her tone that Emma meant it. She didn’t care who the touch was, she just wanted to _know_ them.

Face against the sheets Regina began to softly weep because - she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

Instead she closed Emma’s eyes again, determined to make this anonymous relationship worth it.

Emma closed them willingly enough and Regina reached, tracing down her stomach and into the warmth of Emma’s center.

They gasped.

Forehead against the wide hand mirror Regina gently stroked her a few times and then with a shiver, she entered her.

Emma let out a sharp cry as Regina’s eyes rolled, her hips rolling against herself.

Her fingers moved expertly within her, drawing magic laced pleasure like nothing they had ever felt before.

Regina twisted onto her back, basking in whimpers coming from her far away lover and added her other hand, teasing and rolling.

“Oh god!” they both cried.

Regina’s ministrations became more insistent, moving faster, harder.

Emma babbled a bit as Regina worked, teasing her body, feeling both of them build.

They were close, Regina could feel it. Her fingers swirled inside of them, pushing. Ready.

“Wait.”

Emma had sat up, surprising Regina.

Regina smiled at the wonder in those beautiful green eyes. She softly touched her cheek and then tried to push her back. But Emma wouldn’t go.

Concerned Regina focused harder, finally seeing the look on Emma’s face.

“ _No!_ ”

 _What?_ What was wrong? She tickled her ear, trying to sooth and push her back down but still Emma didn’t go.

A frown touched Regina’s lips. Had she done something wrong? She looked so -

Emma’s eyes popped wide and gasped, “Regina!”

Instantly Regina pulled away.

 

* * *

 

She had said her name. Oh god, she had said her name. She knew. She knew! Now what? Oh god!

Regina had panicked. Regina had thrown herself across the room the moment her name had been said, severing the tie - despite the fact that it physically hurt to do so.

She had stared in horror at the silver mirror for a long while, not thinking, simply panicking.

Then she had magicked her clothes on and had come here.

Her vault.

Emma would be looking for her.

This was the one place that she wouldn’t think of.

No.

She would think of it, but she wouldn’t be able to get in.

Oh god, she had said _her name!_

That had been hours ago now and all Regina had been doing since then was pacing, the same words screaming within her _she had said her name_!

What was she going to do now?

The sun was rising.

It would be any time.

What was she going to do?

Oh Christ, why had she ever started this?

She was going to hate her.

She probably did hate her.

What if Emma never came?

Oh god, _what if she never came?_

What if she simply took Henry and was halfway to Boston now?

Oh god!

She had no idea what to do. She was frozen.

There was nothing good to do.

So she just paced. Sometimes sat. Sometimes paced.

Until she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, we've finally come to the end of this story! Thank you to all of you who read it! You're wonderful!
> 
> As a note, I just want to remind you guys that if you haven't read the earlier chapters recently then you probably should!  
> Thank you all!
> 
> \- L

Emma Swan was leaving. Shit. Emma Swan was leaving!

 

She had meant to be sweet. Warm. Witty. Flirty. Wise.

Whatever Emma wanted in a woman.

But instead she had been…

Evasive. Snarky. Damaged. Pathetic.

And now Emma Swan was leaving.

 

Shit.

She sat on her wannabe stone throne, lounging as though the whole situation was below her from the moment that Emma inexplicably walked through her magical barriers and open called her on her deeds. The best defense - protection against pain - was indifference...but the moment Emma had turned from her Regina had sat bolt upright, her eyes going wide in panic. _She was leaving, she was leaving!_ She had told her that she could come to her if she decided she wanted to be ‘real’ and she was actually following through! She was _leaving_.

And gods help her but Regina was proud of her for it. She wasn’t putting up with her bullshit. She had always appreciated that Emma took none of Regina’s shit. It was strangely liberating.

 

Of course, that apparently didn’t mean that Regina could stop ‘the performance’ as Emma called it. She had considered not hiding at all, not because she had planned on a long and healthy conversation with Emma but because, she could feign innocence. She supposed she _had_ essentially confirmed her identity by disappearing the moment her name had been said, but perhaps if she stared blankly at Emma long enough then maybe Emma would think she was wrong - and they could continue on as they had been. She had even tried that for a moment...

Only.

_How long was she going to do this?_

She didn’t deserve Emma, not even a little bit.

But how long was she going to continue to use the touch? A week? A month? A year? She had never considered how long it could last.

How was it going to end? Would it end well for all? She didn’t think so.

 

So she panicked as Emma’s boots clattered her way up the stairs.

She had to do something about this.

Emma knew now.

Emma had said she wanted her.

So Regina had two choices.

She could let her go and continue on with life. Emma would find someone suitable eventually and Regina could watch as she, Emma and Henry skipped off into the sunset - without her… or she could _do_ something.

She hated herself again for a brief moment knowing that even though she wasn’t good enough, even though it wasn’t right, she was going to get up and she was going to follow her.

 _No one_ would be skipping off into the sunset with her family but her.

Absolutely not.

She was not going to lose another chance at...at…

She leapt to her feet and as she did a torrent of _excitement_ filled her, warm as a winter night's bath and completely unexpected. Suddenly her extremities felt jittery, too much adrenalin. She was going to do this! She was going to stop her. Her worry about whether or not she was good enough, her concerns floated away.

Maybe she had been going about this all wrong. She had been beating herself up for a while now because she wasn’t good enough for Emma. What if - what if - that wasn’t her choice to make?

Plus hadn’t the touch originally started for this purpose...originally? Before it had turned sexual. In it’s purest form. It had simply been to help Emma...love her.

She gasped, surprised by the idea. _Did_ Emma love her? Or was that...silly?

Wonder passed through her as she thought - maybe she could.

She had started the touches so that she could seduce Emma Swan; win her heart.

It seemed as though she had done that, hadn’t she?

Hook and Baelfire were out of the picture. She was the only one left.

She turned and studied herself in the mirror. Her hair was still done to perfection but her lipstick was a bit smudged. She waved her hand and poof, her makeup was pristine again.

Then she glanced at the stairs.

Was she ready for this?

Everything in her seemed to still for a few beats as she realized - yes. She was ready for this.

She took the stairs two at a time and burst through the door of the vault.

The trees were swaying around her gently in the fall breeze, their red, gold and orange leaves scattering like autumn snow. They stood in a perfect background for the blonde mane fluttering lightly ahead of her as Emma stomped off toward the town.

“Emma!”

She didn’t seem to hear her.

The devil bit and she grinned.

Slowly, very slowly, she flexed her fingers and - pinched The Saviors ass.

Of all the startled jumps in all of the world, Regina was sure this one would take the cake. Emma leapt, clutching her chest in surprise. Then her body flailed, her arms went out as if pleading with the heavens and she cried into the morning air, “GOD DAMN IT, WOMAN!”

Regina threw back her head and laughed, easily, happily.

She wasn’t sure if Emma was going to pause or if she was going to continue her stalking away. So Regina didn’t give her a chance.

She stalked forward, her heels sinking a bit in the grass. She overtook the blonde in seconds, grasping her arm.

“Regina -” Emma started, low exasperated.

Regina grabbed a hip, her chilled fingers wrapping around Emma’s warm neck and yanked.

Emma fell to Regina’s seeking lips with a cry of surprise.

The moment they touched both sighed, relief warring tightly with want.

Emma was here. In her arms. She wasn’t across town. Or standing right next to her obliviously.

She was right here.

 

The kiss was polite, a closed lip declaration that barely transferred any of Regina’s deep red lipstick to Emma’s softly pink lips, yet when she pulled away Emma was still as a statue; her eyes closed, head tilted, lips puckered, her hand balled tightly in Regina’s shirt on her shoulder.

Regina let out a small chuckle which shook Emma out of herself. Those beautiful green eyes fluttered.

Regina waited, needing to see those eyes before she could decide what to do next.

Finally they focused, holding all of the shock of a victim of an auto accident. But there was also stunned wonder and - joy.

She didn’t wait.

She pulled Emma back to her, celebrating the warmth as Emma’s lips hungrily found hers again.

Instantly Emma’s hands were in her hair, stroking, grabbing handfuls and pulling her tighter to her.

Regina gasped as Emma’s hips softly grazed her own and her lips parted.

Emma wasted no time, slipping a thirsty tongue past her lips.

A hot wave of desire spilled through her as she met each stroke with her own fire, pulling gasps and whines from Emma as she began to sway a bit, unable to stay still. Emma’s hands were flexing, hovering over Regina’s ass as though they wanted nothing more than to grab on.

Regina wished she would.

Their bodies pressed together like magnets that had been straining to find their mate and had only just finally been released to do what felt right and natural. 

 

* * *

 

She could tell that Emma had not been at all aware of their magical transportation by the way she started when her eyes next opened. One minute they had been in the very cold morning air and the next...

Even Regina hadn’t meant to do it - completely. She had been contemplating the change of scenery and then they were standing in the warm house beside Regina’s huge, fluffy and inviting bed.

Emma’s eyes flicked around, taking in her surroundings and exactly what they meant.

Regina waited again. When the surprised green fell on her she popped an eyebrow and grinned.

Emma seemed to think about it for a mico-moment then her jacket was on the floor.

Regina gasped, pleasantly surprised when she was grabbed by the neck.

Emma tried to slam her lips back into Regina’s but she held back. Emma tried again and again Regina held back; Emma’s desperate attempts only egging on Regina and her vixen-like games.

Finally Emma frowned and Regina purposely leaned forward, dancing a breath from her skin. She held herself there, hovering and teasing as the pressure built. She could feel Emma’s breath puffing against her lips, hot and fast, her hands tightening painfully against Regina’s skin.

Regina’s lips parted and tenderly her tongue came out to taste Emma’s bottom lip with the very tip.

Emma gasped, her eyes fogging over as though dizzy.

It was such a heady, pleasurable game, building Emma to her highest state of arousal.

Emma snarled, losing her ability to wait, her fingers flexing and dancing over Regina’s body. Regina’s lips tweaked up in the corner, enjoying the game.

“Ahmmm,” Emma whimpered when Regina’s tongue flicked out again, across her lip and into her mouth.

Emma hit her hard, thrusting into Regina’s body, her hands finally landing, squeezing Regina’s ass, pulling one heeled leg up so it wrapped around her waist with a grunt of satisfaction.

Regina gasped loudly, embarrassingly loudly when Emma’s lower belly pressed to her center.

This time it was Emma with the smug chuckle.

Regina responded with a quick and firm bite to the underside of Emma’s ear, twisting the chuckle into a aroused gasp of her own.  “Jesus.” Emma whispered as she ran her hands up Regina’s ribs and over her bra padded breast.

Hooked behind Emma’s neck Regina leaned back, enjoying the sensation even through her clothes.

“Fuck.” Emma hissed and went to pull her own shirt over her head but Regina stopped her.

Emma’s eyebrows rose in question and Regina answered with a smirk. Emma scowled when she unwrapped her leg from around her and Regina kissed it away.

Slowly, her eyes never leaving Emma’s, she found her way under the hem of the casual sweater and gently traced her fingertips up Emma’s stomach before flattening so she could finally, really feel Emma’s skin beneath them.

Emma cringed at the chill but stood resolutely still.

Regina held them there until they grew warm with Emma’s heat, only sliding occasionally an inch this way or that in a fond caress. Then she began to push them up Emma’s skin, taking the sweater with it. Up over her abs, her ribs, gently cupping her breast, before around to the backs of her shoulders so all Emma had to do was pull her arms out.

The sweater dropped to the floor.

She loved the way Emma was watching her, the intensity made her eyes crackle like fire. It made Regina's heart beat heard in her chest and her center tingle. She felt - wanted - desireable - important.

Eyes on hers, Regina took a step forward and slowly her arms wrapped around Emma’s waist as her nose buried in the hollow between her collarbones, taking in her scent with a sigh.

Emma’s arms held her, running over her hair, down her back, over her arms.

“Regina I -”

Regina kissed her again. Not because she didn’t want her to speak but because there was no need. She moved down her jaw, sprinkling little kisses and bites across her neck, her shoulder while her hand slipped down Emma’s body and softly cupped the apex of her jeans.

Emma’s breath caught, a sudden fury between them and clothes began to disappear, falling to the floor, the lamps, getting caught on the dresser or by the ceiling fan.

“Oh god.” Regina gasped pushing her backward onto the bed. She had seen Emma naked before but this - this was so much better.

Emma laid back, long and lean, while Regina crawled up and sat on her knees over Emma’s ankles, taking her in.

_Oh my._

Emma grinned, making Regina realize she was biting her lip.

“What?”

Emma’s grin grew as she threw an arm behind her head, the picture of ease, “Nothing.”

Regina’s eyebrow popped and she felt her own grin sweep her face.

Slowly, purposefully she leaned forward, running her nose up Emma’s leg, enjoying the soft pleasure of the smooth skin, up over her hip, taking in the scent of Emma’s building arousal, over her belly, up her ribs, across a hard nipple and into Emma’s neck.

Emma gasped and wrapped herself around her.

“Are you - are you sure you want - this?” Regina asked hidden in the bend of her jaw.

Emma’s chuckle was low and throaty, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Their lips met and everything picked up. Suddenly there was no such thing as fast enough, close enough.

Regina’s mouth worked, getting to know the taste of Emma’s skin over her lips, jaw, throat, neck and chest while Emma, unable to help the gasps that fell from her lips, bucked and pulled, letting Regina fall between her legs. They cried out in tandem when Regina’s bare hips fell onto Emma’s exposed center. Regina’s lips slid desperately down her chest, delighting when Emma slid herself up her stomach, and took one delicately pointed nipple into her mouth.

Emma released a sharp and quick cry, her hand falling to the back of Regina’s head.

 _Oh_ this had been good, this had been fun when she was touching her with invisible fingers but listening to Emma moan as Regina’s tongue played over her skin, sucking and taunting - this was better.

She flexed her fingers and began to tease Emma’s second nipple with the touch Emma knew so well, “Jesus Christ!” Emma cried, her back arching into Regina.

Regina grinned, continuing her teasing until Emma was a shuddering, whimpering, begging mess, her breast heaving, her eyes deep and dark with carnal lust. Only then did Regina trail her palm down Emma’s stomach and cup her again, moaning into her skin.

“Emma,” she gasped, surprised, “you’re so - wet.”

Emma scoffed, her cheeks flushing pink, “Well what exactly did you expect, your majesty?”

Regina rolled her eyes and buried her face in Emma’s throat, biting back a moan as her fingers explored, softly running back and forth coating her fingers and simply enjoying the feeling of being there.

This was magic. Emma’s body responding so openly, so enthusiastically to her. There could be no higher compliment.

She worked her way down Emma’s body, her mouth beginning to water. She wanted her. She wanted to feel her pleasure.

She sat back on her knees and, biting her lip, spread Emma’s thighs which had a moment before been clenched tightly around her waist.

She stared for a moment before glancing up into Emma’s face. She was looking for - what? Worry?

It was not there, instead a peaceful and honest calm was hidden in Emma’s smile. So Regina began to lean forward, her fingers playing gently in the curls, her gasps coming quick with anticipation.

Then she was on her back, Emma crawling up her, laughing into her skin.

Regina blinked, then cried out, unable to stop herself as Emma sucked on her hip bones, up her trim stomach and onto a full, round breast.

“Oh god.” She hadn’t even considered how it would feel to have Emma on her, not really. The touch, while deliciously satisfying to Regina, had always been about Emma’s pleasure. Her eyes closed as her eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

Emma chuckled and then Regina was being filled, slowly but confidently by her blonde.

She clutched her, arms wrapping tightly around her back, needing to feel her against her as her hips came off the bed to meet her.

“Are you okay?” Emma panted.

Regina felt herself growl, “Are you fucking kidding me?” her hand slipped between them and without hesitation she slid into Emma.

They gasped and then slowly began to rock together, picking up pace.

Regina’s back came on the bed, fell, came off the bed, fell as she thrust over and over again, intoxicated by the feeling of Emma around her fingers and Emma’s fingers inside of her. It was so much more than she could take and yet not enough.

Regina began to circle as she had found Emma had enjoyed so much before.

“Jesus.” Emma cried again and again as she fell forward.

Regina clasped her, desperately trying to find Emma’s lips again. Once she found them they moaned, their movements increasing.

**_BANG, BANG, BANG_ **

They froze.

“Was that -”

“The door-” Regina growled, refusing to slow her steady rhythm that was making Emma’s whole body quake.

“Really?”

“ _Yes._ ” She snapped.

“Do you think we need to -” Emma straightened, sitting up but Regina caught her hand before Emma could remove herself from Regina.

“I swear to god, Emma Swan, if you make me take myself out of you there will be _hell_ to pay.”

Emma’s eyes widened and she began a grin that was interrupted by Regina flipping them over.

With a flick of her wrist, the deadbolt downstairs shot into place, locking the house to any intruders then she buried herself in Emma again.

Emma’s eyes rolled as Regina retracted and thrust again, as deeply as she could, watching Emma’s face as it twisted.

“Fuck!” Regina gasped as she did it again.

Regina began to twist and everything in Emma went still, a high and barely audible, “There. Right there” falling between moans.

Oh god. Oh fuck. Regina began to move, crashing into Emma with all she had, feeling Emma begin to tighten. “Yea - yea - ye - fuck, Regina! Re - fuck Regina.”

Regina slid down her body and with one small curl of her tongue around Emma’s clit, Emma was coming, screaming out Regina’s name as Regina lapped, thrust and gasped.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Emma’s body finally fell back onto the blankets and Regina stilled, her entire body on fire. She playfully flicked her tongue again over Emma’s clit and Emma yelped, overly sensitive for the moment.

Then she caught Emma’s evil grin.

“What ever could that look mean, my dear?”

Emma pulled her up quickly, pressing her body against her fully, leaving only on leg free to wrap around her.

“Oh!” Regina gasped as Emma thrust back into her, using her hips to press, pull away and press again.

She held her, unable to form full thoughts any longer all she knew was she needed to be closer, press tighter. She needed to swallow her and make their two, one.

She pulled her to her, holding her against her, kissing her temple, her forehead as she felt the beginning of her orgasm crash through her. “Emma.” She whispered and then it overtook her and she came hard and long into Emma’s body.

She jerked and danced but Emma only held her free arm around her tightly, nuzzling her neck and giving her small kisses.

Finally her body released, worn and drained and she fell flat against the sheets.

Emma leaned up and grinned.

Regina softly grinned back, pushing a bit of hair out of Emma’s face.

“I guess your plan worked for you.”

Regina chuckled, their bellies bouncing against the others as they laughed, “I suppose it did.”

Emma’s face grew thoughtful, contemplative as a finger absentmindedly caressed Regina’s nipple.

“What’s wrong, my love?” The finger was driving her mad, winding her body again far too soon after her last orgasm.

“I was thinking.” Emma scrambled down so her head could rest lightly on her stomach.

“Uhhmm. You were thinking?” Emma’s finger began to gently play with her, making her eyes grow wide and gasp.

“I - I was thinking - that uh - do you think we should go on a date.”

Regina’s face broke into a grin, warmth flooding her, “A date?”

Emma nodded, watching Regina’s back beginning to arch. “Yes. Like getting dressed up, pick you up at the door and kiss you goodnight kind of date.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

Emma’s grin grew as she leaned down for her first taste of Regina, “Yeah. I do.”

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Caricia Fantasma](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4996513) by [lucerocanalla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucerocanalla/pseuds/lucerocanalla)




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